The Long Game
by adubbs47
Summary: When notorious jewel thieves, the Canary and Oracle, find themselves on the wrong side of the Triad they must rely on Starling City's vigilante, the Arrow, for help. Felicity Smoak and Sara Lance never expected that a simple job would turn this dangerous. But in this game of cat and mouse, criminals, jail time, and master assassins are the least of their worries.
1. Prologue: Dénouement

****AN: This story was inspired by a Tumblr prompt I titled To Catch a Thief which took on a life of its own. This chapter begins after the events of that prompt, but the story will circle back around. If you are interested the original prompt can be found at ****** s/10795929/24/Happiness-is-a-Journey**

**The prologue title is derived from the Old French word desnouer, "to untie", from nodus, Latin for "knot." Based on my research this an alternate title to one of the six stages of a con.**

**Rating: M**

**Thank you to everyone who inspired me to make this a multi-chapter fic. I really hope you all enjoy it. I'd love to hear what you think!**

**Prologue: Dénouement**

Felicity took a breath to steady her hands before taking a step closer to the blue and green, ornate Faberge' egg. The same egg that was worth thirty million dollars, and with the added cost of getting in the middle of a mob war, apparently.

They were stupid for having agreed to this job and stupid for having trusted China White.

Felicity knew this and was aware of the fact that they were most likely going to be double crossed somehow. Yet they still accepted the job. Although, thanks to her genius, they were able to double cross their double-crossers.

Was that triple-crossing, Felicity wondered to herself, tilting her head as she did.

Felicity glanced at her watch, hoping that Sara was faring well on her side of the mission. Both women had important jobs requiring radio silence so as not to set off the sensors the Solntsevskaya Bratva employed. They had only had three weeks to plan this job, but were hoping there short prep time was enough to limit any surprises.

Surprises were something that could land both of them six feet under on this job.

With another deep breath to steady herself, Felicity reached forward to claim her prize.

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you," came a rough, gravel toned voice from the shadows to her left.

Funny, she thought she checked those.

Not wanting to take a chance, she did as instructed, and paused midway.

"You know, if I make the slightest move in the wrong direction," she stated while chancing half a glance in the stranger's direction behind her. "I could set off a dozen different alarms that would spell trouble for both of us,"

"You wouldn't do that, Felicity Smoak." He spoke her name with venom, as if it had somehow poisoned him.

Which was odd because her life of crime hadn't made her any direct enemies – at least none that she knew of.

But maybe she was wrong, maybe she had her very own nemesis. Sara had the Huntress - Helena Bertenelli - who she had known from her New York days. They dated the same guy once upon a time, or so Sara said.

"I'm sorry, but have we met?" Felicity asked, startled as she turned to see a man holding a bow and arrow aimed at her chest.

Yep, she definitely didn't remember making enemies with Robin Hood.

"Don't tell me you don't remember me," he purred. His voice may have sounded familiar it if wasn't so distorted. Voice modulator, she assumed. "After all, we did have a memorable evening, Meghan."

Felicity winced at the sound of her alias, or that specific alias.

Using her middle name was a new one she had been trying out. She often used an alias like Sally Ryan or Emily Richards, but nothing with personal significance. For some reason the night she met Oliver, she used her middle name, and she had only used that name a handful of times.

It was also the first time she broke her own rule and had an intimate conversation with a mark. With Oliver Queen.

Who, she now realized, moonlighted as a vigilante in green leather. Which, in retrospect, should have been more jarring than it was.

"The first actual, honest conversation I have with a man in years and he turns out to be … well you," Felicity said with a wave of her hand in his direction. "You can put the bow and arrow down, I'm not armed."

"I'll be the judge of that," he asserted as he took a step in her direction.

"What? Are you going to frisk me?" She said, holding back a laugh at her own sass.

Oliver tipped his head to the side, giving her a view of his face under the green hood. He was giving her an 'are you seriously sassing the man with the bow and arrow?' look, the kind that Sara would often send her way.

His eyes, though, were filled with pain and betrayal.

"You're going to put your hands up, in the air, and we are going to walk out of here." Oliver told her without lowering his bow.

Felicity did feel bad for lying to him. She had enjoyed their time together at the museum, and even found herself wondering what could have been between them. But she was a thief, after all, and did steal 1.2 million dollars from him that night.

Would he have come to her for tech support, she wondered. She had been eyeing up that IT position at Queen Consolidated after graduation. They could have met in the break room over coffee, her rambling about how gorgeous he was, and him returning her affections with a smile. It would have been nice, simple even.

Her life, however, had turned out different from what she had expected it would be.

She assumed that the same went for him. She didn't expect for anyone to wake up one morning with the sudden urge, and skill, to put on green leather and patrol the streets of Starling City.

She'd heard the story about Oliver Queen, and the rumors about the man known as the Arrow. She just didn't think they were one in the same.

"Listen," Felicity turned to face him head on, keeping both hands up. "I get that you want to take me in to the police, preferably back in America, because I've heard some awful things about Russian prisons, like really bad, very unsanitary." She paused when Oliver cleared his throat, a signal that he wanted her to get to the point.

"Anyway, I get you want to do the right thing. But I am doing the right thing too," she said as she glanced back over her shoulder. "That egg is important, and if I don't get it, someone close to me will die."

"You say that like there is a chance of me ever believing a word you say." She could feel the anger vibrating from his voice all the way to where she stood.

"I get it, I do," Felicity pleaded. "You must have such a low impression of me, and my chosen profession."

For some reason, she did feel bad that he thought so low of her. In normal circumstances the idea of someone disapproving of her career wouldn't bother her, but this time it did. It was as if his … support was something she needed.

"You steal from people," he spat in her direction.

"Only from those who can afford it," she countered, trying to meet his eyes.

"Stealing is stealing," he told her in truth, unwavering in his stance.

She could have taken the cheap shot that was available to her. She knew the rumors, and the stories. She knew what the Hood had done in Starling, the lives he took.

Now that she knew that Oliver was said vigilante, she knew that he was capable of much worse than stealing a decorative egg.

But there was a part of her, a part that she had been trying to shove down since the Queen job, that never wanted to hurt him. She never wanted to use his past against him.

So instead, she shrugged and attempted to sound nonchalant. "Fair point, but this time, there is more at stake than a couple million dollars in my bank account."

Felicity saw in his eyes that he didn't believe her. "You're lying," his voice was deep, and hard.

And irritating.

Here she was, not using his past against him, and he wasn't even budging an inch.

"Are you really this stubborn?" She challenged, lowering her arms to cross in front of her chest. "I have never lied to you. I omitted the truth." Felicity pointed her finger in his direction for good measure as she saw his bow lower. His notched arrow now pointed at the floor instead of her chest. "But I never told you a single lie."

As Oliver's forehead furrowed in contemplation she saw her opening, and she took it. "God, be a stubborn ass, I don't care."

Felicity felt a surge of triumph as her fingers found the jewel encrusted egg. She sometimes boasted to Sara of her lightning fast reflexes and agile fingers. It was part of what made her a good thief.

"Wait!" Oliver yelled just as Felicity heard a slight 'chirp' noise. "Don't move!"

Her eyes darted to both ends of the room but she didn't dare move an inch. "What was that?" She asked as she held her frame stock still. "Oh god it was a sensor, how bad is it?"

Oliver moved at a slow pace with care to place the arrow back in its quiver and bow in his less dominant hand. She doubted whether he had a dominant hand or not.

A man like Oliver Queen was most likely skilled at using both hands, she thought. Felicity cringed at the mental image that thought summoned. It was probably not the best time to start thinking of his hands.

He bent his knees, crouching low, to look at the source of the noise. He was careful to move the fabric cloth covering the pedestal so as not to cause any sudden movements. She thought the cloth covered pedestal was there for decoration. In her haste she hadn't expected there to be a device that could kill her.

"It's a bomb," he told her in a voice no louder than a whisper.

Felicity rolled her eyes at his response. "Well I was hoping it wasn't a trampoline." Ok, maybe the sarcasm could wait until after he disabled it. "What kind of bomb? C4? Is there a timer? What if it has a remote detonator?"

"Felicity!" His sharp voice broke her from her fast approaching ramble.

It also caused her to feel her own ire build up within her. If he hadn't been so stubborn she wouldn't have rushed to grab her prize. This was his fault.

"What?" She snapped back.

"I need you to be quiet so I can focus." She opened her mouth to lay out a witty retort when she caught his eyes. His crystal blue eyes that looked, in that moment, helpless. "It looks like its pressure sensitive, so don't move." His voice was firm, but she sensed a note of pleading – or maybe it was her imagination. "I'm going to radio my partner, who is ex-special forces-"

Now it was her turn to interrupt him with a snapped tone. "No don't!"

"Why?" He asked as he pulled his hand away from the Bluetooth speaker in his ear.

"The frequency that you'll use will set off a silent alarm and send Bratva agents swarming us. And while I'm assuming you're familiar with the Bratva, I doubt that you want your secret identity exposed." She rushed out, afraid he would attempt to contact his partner.

It was the whole reason why she and Sara hadn't stayed in contact that night. Usually they did, unless some extreme circumstance prevented it. If the Bratva even had the slightest inclination that someone was paralleling their frequency it would be lights out for them.

"How do you…?" Oliver's gaze searched her for a bluff.

He probably didn't expect her to figure out that he had connections to the Bratva. She did just find out that he was the Arrow.

"You seemed to know enough about this place to know that there was a secret entrance in the book shelf, which I'm assuming is how you entered, because the window is locked and alarmed, and the door is in front of me. The entrance wasn't on any blueprint that we looked at, and believe me, we looked through them all, so that leaves you being a member of the Bratva, and considering your nightly occupation, I'm not sure why that would be surprising." She rambled, trying not to let her hand slip as she spoke. "I'm a recorded genius, powers of deduction come with the brain."

To his credit he didn't seem put off by her rapid fire information. "Ok, well," he said with a smirk. "Genius, I'm only seeing one way out of here, and you may not like it."

Felicity felt her stomach begin to twist at the thought of him leaving her behind. Of course he wasn't the one with his hand on a bomb. It would be easy for him to leave, do svidaniya as the Russians would say.

She was about to protest when he stood and begin to pull an arrow from his quiver. He seemed to be surveying the window across from them.

"As long as it doesn't get me blown up into a million little pieces or tortured by the Russian mob, I'm open to suggestions." She told him, her tone half begging him not to leave her.

"Hold out your arm," he told her without looking at her, eyes fixed on the window behind her. "And you're going to want to hold onto me tight."

"Hold out my…?" She asked as her hair began to stand on end, but held out her arm anyway. "Why am I holding out my…"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence as Oliver Queen charged towards her. Felicity let out a scream as Oliver pushed them forward and through the window while Felicity held herself flush against his chest.

She watched the ground surge forward, as she held tight to Oliver's firm body, before moving further away in a pendulum like swing. Gunfire, alarms, and explosions blazed around them as they sliced through the air and away from the building.

In the rush she didn't have a chance to realize that she held firm to that damn egg.


	2. The Queen Job

**AN: Thank you to those of you who commented, favorited, and followed this story. It really is nice to hear how a story is being received. This chapter is very similar, with slight adjustments, to the prompt fic this story was based off of. It will seem familiar if you have read the prompt fic, however I did make adjustments and additions. Please let me know what you think. I really enjoy constructive feedback. **

**Thank you for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Queen Job**

**Eight Weeks Earlier**

"Are you sure you understand the plan?" Sara asked as she zipped the bag on the beige carpeted floor in front of Felicity.

"How many times have I walked _you_ through heists?" Felicity asked as she brought the ruby red earring to her ear before shaking her head to reject the earring.

Sara sighed before getting to her feet. She was usually the one on the inside and Felicity stayed far away on the comms. Preferably hidden in a remote location so that Felicity was safe. Sara was the front person to their little operation.

Both women had their strengths, and worked well as a team, but Sara was the physical strength. She also knew how to think on her feet and manipulate those they were targeting. Sara liked to think it was because she was the baby of her family, or maybe it just came natural. She was also more trained in hand to hand combat.

They preferred to avoid using that tactic, but sometimes in their line of work a punch in the face was necessary.

Felicity, on the other hand, was all brain. She was smart, scary smart.

She graduated at the top of her class from MIT and went straight to work at a high profile tech startup company in New York City. Not long after she fell off the grid and began working with Sara as a thief and forger.

For the three years that Sara had known Felicity, her motivation for choosing this lifestyle was little more than a mystery. She was a genius who could get a job anywhere she wanted and earn a competitive salary. It wasn't hard to imagine Felicity ruling the world one day with perfectly manicured fingertips racing across keyboards and through boardrooms.

Sara also knew about Felicity's single mother, and subsequent abandonment issues. She knew that Felicity had her own demons that came from her childhood, but Felicity always seemed too bright and bubbly to let them influence her decision making. Felicity seemed normal, which was odd seeing as how many quirks she had.

_But who was she to judge_, Sara would think to herself. Sara's backstory made even less sense than Felicity's. Sara's father was an officer of the law with the Starling City Police Department - _he was a detective actually_. Her mother was a History professor, and her sister was a lawyer. Sara grew up with the most law abiding, loving family next to the Brady Bunch - or some other stereotypical traditional family.

Even so she felt a little lost – a little left out. Her family had great plans for her, but Sara chose to drop out of college after one semester. She chose to runaway to New York City to begin her life of pick pocketing and petty theft. It was not as glamorous as being the Assistant District Attorney but for some reason Sara loved it.

Soon Sara began to pick up tricks of the trade and a few mentors along the way. She graduated from stealing wallets on the subways of New York to stealing jewels in France and Rome within two years. One of her mentors, a man named Floyd Lawton, gave her the nickname _Canary_.

He told her once that all the best thieves had code names or aliases. In his words, she was small and wild, just like a canary. Sarah thought he was nuts until she met the _Huntress- _but that was a whole different story.

When Sara met Felicity, she was a quiet young girl who wore pink blouses and low ponytails. Not the type of co-conspirator that Sara had in mind.

Felicity Smoak was an expert in disabling security systems and had become known for her skill at risk management and plan development. Most times Sara would listen to Felicity talk and feel as though she were speaking another language. The two women couldn't have been more different, yet at Floyd's insistence, had to work together.

Sara and Felicity became more than just _teammates_ during a precarious mission to Prague. Felicity had rerouted the security feed to another point in the building to redirect the guards. While this granted Sara precious moments to escape it also saved her life. One of the guards had been closing in on Sara's location with his gun locked and loaded.

She had been able to direct Sara to an old maintenance closet with a back entrance. It wasn't on the original plan, but Felicity found it just in time.

Two years later, they were inseparable and trusted each other implicitly.

Sara did the heavy lifting while Felicity was the brains. They perfected their system over countless jobs and were a well-oiled machine.

Tonight's job was different though. The job was a pair of rose cut, diamond earrings from the Georgian era. Earrings like these were small game in comparison to what they usually stole. Paintings and rare gems were their normal fare.

These earrings were worth 1.2 million dollars and held a slight rose colored tint. Neither quality made them rare or impressive. It was interesting, though, that Isabel Rochev would be presenting them at the QC annual Gala. From their research, the woman was not nice or social unless it benefitted the company … financially.

Any thief who dared go up against QC's state of the art security system usually ended up serving a prison sentence. That fact alone should have dissuaded them from attempting this job.

Should have, being the operative words.

There was a man who was willing to pay a reasonable amount of money to get these earrings from the Queen family. An amount so reasonable that it was almost too good to pass up.

The only problem being Sara's family who all lived in Starling City and held various positions of law enforcement. Her family would spot for sure if she set one foot in the art museum and the job would be as good as over.

Felicity had no connection to anyone involved which made her the perfect inside woman.

"What about these?" Felicity asked as she held up a diamond stud earring.

"Might be better than the ruby, and pack more of a flash." Sara nodded from behind Felicity, looking at her friend's reflection. "We don't have to take this job, you know that right?"

Felicity smiled in the mirror at Sara before turning around.

"You realize you've asked me that five times already?" She quirked her smile. "I have been a part of jobs like this before, just last month I was out in the field with you in Moscow for that painting."

Sara blanched at the job in question. "If you're trying to make me feel better, then you picked a terrible example seeing as how you were shot."

Felicity paused with an earring halfway to her ear. "I got shot pushing you out of the way," she clarified. "If anything, you not being there tonight will keep me more focused."

Felicity gave Sara a wink before clipping the earring in place and smoothing out her dress.

"All right smart ass," Sara chuckled before turning serious once more. "Just in and out, and if there are any problems-"

"You are right outside," Felicity smiled at Sara. "You said that five times, also."

"Well, I think this plan is stupid." Sara huffed before picking up the small silver clutch that matched Felicity's jewelry.

"Duly noted." Felicity smirked before holding her hand out for the clutch.

She would be lying if she said that she wasn't thrilled for tonight. It was rare that she was able to go out into the field and do the job she planned out. Sara was good at what they did - stealing things - but Felicity wished that Sara saw her as more of a partner who could handle herself. She sometimes felt like some computer geek who had to stay in the car.

Felicity was hoping to change all that tonight.

* * *

The lights and green carpet spread out in front of the Starling City Museum made it look like a star-studded affair instead of what it was – An overpriced party for the rich.

Felicity wasn't from Starling City, but Sara told her that the city often put on functions like this – massive charity fundraisers – that the rich of the city were able to attend while their children held similar events for the benefit of themselves.

Sara also told her that while the city's rich continued to profit, the number of residents below the poverty line continued to increase. It was unjust, really.

Her mother was a single mom that worked endless hours as a cocktail waitress in Vegas just to support Felicity. There were months that were more difficult than others, like when Felicity had to have her wisdom teeth removed.

Felicity knew what it was like to be faced with difficulties due to not meeting the certain percentile.

That, among other reasons, were why she left her profitable job after graduation and became a thief. There were so many reasons to keep her steady job and continue on the way she was, but Felicity was reminded just how much the people around her suffered for not having the same skill set.

So Felicity left and began using her profits to fund other people.

Sara called it _Robin Hood_ style justice, and Felicity agreed.

"Miss … ?" The man at the front of the line in a black tuxedo with tails asked her.

Felicity realized that he was the 'bouncer' so to speak. This man was there to make sure that undesirable people, or thieves, didn't sneak into the event.

"Carmichael, Meghan Carmichael," Felicity told him as she handed over her gold sealed invitation that she had forged the night before.

Being a documented genius with an unlimited skill set came in handy in their line of work, Felicity thought as she plastered a fake smile across her face. Forging had been a habit she formed in the third grade when her teacher wouldn't let her go on the class trip without her mother's permission. Donna Smoak had pulled a double shift and, being the lovable scatter brained woman she was, forgot to sign the form.

Felicity knew that her mother wouldn't mind – she encouraged it, even. With a light tip of the black ink pen she had pocketed from her teacher's desk, Felicity scrawled her mother's signature easily.

"Miss Carmichael," The man in the tuxedo gave her a warm smile in return before handing the invitation back to her. "Welcome to Starling City."

Felicity smiled once more and gave a 'thank you,' before making her way through the green carpet toward the entrance way.

* * *

Felicity gratefully accepted the glass of champagne that was passing her slowly on a gold plated tray. Now that she was inside the main hall, she let Sara's words run through her head the same way Felicity would talk Sara through a job.

Scout the exits … _Done. 5_.

Ok next, does the security team have weapons … _Done_. Three suited guards held Tasers on their hips, while the four that appeared to be 'under cover' seemed to have a slight bulge in their suit jacket pockets.

Third, look for the tech surveillance … _Done_.

Felicity could spot five strategically placed cameras, just where they anticipated. Felicity knew that there were a few extra hidden in shirt lapels and potted plants. The Queen's security company was one of the best in the country, utilizing military grade surveillance techniques to assure that the family members and the Queen's possessions were heavily guarded.

Truth be told, Felicity admired their work. All of their guards were former military and they were trained for advanced jobs apart from babysitting rich snobs.

"Excuse me." Felicity started just short of bumping into a very attractive man in a charcoal grey suit. "Sorry, I didn't want to bump into you."

Felicity felt her mouth drop as she met his crystal clear, blue eyes and perfectly chiseled jawline. If this man ever posed for a painting she would definitely be in line to steal it.

"Miss?" He asked, causing Felicity to realize she had been staring.

"Oh god, sorry, I wasn't staring." Felicity rambled awkwardly. It was a good thing she hadn't pushed for comms on this job, Sara would have never let her live it down.

The Adonis in front of her chuckled, but didn't make a move to leave.

"Right, sorry, I'm still in your way." She said before moving one step to the side, mentally smacking herself in the head as she went.

"I don't mind, Miss?" The man asked while extending his very large hand towards her.

Felicity couldn't help but think of how that large, firm hand would feel grazing across her skin or pushing back a wisp of hair. She could only imagine the way his long fingers would feel as they slid along the length of her belly, unfurling the most delicious kind of torture-.

She swallowed over the x-rated thoughts that began to enter her head, all starring this man and his hands, before taking a gulp of champagne.

"Carmichael. Meghan." Felicity winced at the stilted manner in which she spoke. "Is me."

"Meghan." The man smiled before taking her smaller hand in his.

Felicity wanted to melt at how surprisingly calloused his hand was. When she imagined a man that looked like him, she saw well-manicured and moisturized, not rough and rugged. But, upon further inspection, those hands and callouses seemed to fit him … and his eyes. It was as though there was some deeper side to him, something darker.

"It's nice to meet you," he said as he squeezed her hand once before letting it go. "I'm Oliver Queen."

Felicity resisted the urge to wince. Oliver Queen was the man who owned the earrings she was planning to steal. Who also had hands that could have been carved by God himself.

"Meghan, it's strange, I don't remember that name on our invite list," he said with a cock of his head. "My associate was very clear that I was to remember each name on the list so I didn't embarrass her."

"I was a last minute addition," she told him with a smile she learned from Sara. It was a '_please believe me because if you don't this whole plan will go to waste_' kind of smile.

Oliver gave her a thoughtful expression before taking a sip out of the glass in his other hand.

"Then I guess it's my good luck you made it in," he told her, causing her to feel slightly weak in the knees. "Meghan, I would be remiss if I didn't tell you how beautiful you looked in that dress."

Felicity felt the butterflies in her stomach at his words. It had been a long time since any man had called her beautiful. She knew she was attractive, but when you spent your life behind a computer, human interaction was limited. She couldn't even remember the last time she went on a date.

"Thank you, Oliver. This is a wonderful event," she said with a tip of her champagne glass.

"Thank you, Meghan." He gave her a wink, causing a rosy shade to light up her cheeks and a gentle heat to fill her belly.

"Can you stop doing that?" She bit out, but wished she had stayed silent.

Meghan Carmichael had been hit on dozens of times, she was practically a pro at it. Felicity Smoak on the other hand … was not. The last man who had even looked at Felicity in a remotely sexual way was Cooper Sheldon, and he had only been after her skilled abilities to hack government software.

But the way Oliver Queen was looking at her, and saying her name … it was as if he had been walking in the desert and she was the first cool glass of water he had ever seen. Both lust and wonder filled his gaze.

"Doing what?" He asked, trying to act innocent, but his eyes were traveling the planes of her face and neck.

"Saying my name like that," she said in an admonishing tone. "You keep saying it like you want to swallow it or something."

She said it with a shrug, in hopes of sounding nonchalant. In truth, the way he said her name caused a spark to ignite deep within her, a spark that was only dimmed by the fact that it wasn't really her name.

"Swallow it?" Oliver asked, almost choking on his drink that he took a mouthful of.

"Or something," Felicity said with a wave of her hand. "Forget it."

"Oh no, there's no way I'm going to forget this." Oliver laughed placing his hand on the small of her back to lead Felicity to a side table, away from the crowds of people. "So Meghan, what brings you to Starling City?"

"Beautiful …" Felicity trailed off, trying to think of a lie that sounded like the truth. "Diamonds." She finished with a smile.

Of course, the perfect alibi – actually coming to see the items on display. What else could she say? She was in the neighborhood and wanted to make a charitable donation?

"Aww the earrings. They are something." Oliver nodded with understanding.

"Yeah, my friend kept going on and on about them so I figured I should get a look before I left town." Felicity proceeded to expand her lie, but not really a lie. Sara did obsess over these particular earrings for about a month at least. "Maybe snap a selfie in front of them to make her jealous."

Felicity winked and gave a light laugh. Oliver nodded before leaning forward, placing his hand atop her own. God those hands, Felicity had to keep herself from swooning again. He leaned towards her, while beckoning her to do the same. With a careful glance over his shoulder he looked back to her, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"I do own them," he said in a husky toned whisper. "I could let you try them on if you like?"

Felicity felt herself pause. There was no way he would even be able to do that. A- that would make her job way too easy, and B- that would have given her a lot more time with him and less time actually stealing the earrings. Definitely not something that the universe had in store for her tonight. _Unless it did_.

"Really? I don't believe you." She told him with a glimmer of hope in her eye. "You can't do that."

"No I can't," he backed away with a smirk gracing his lips.

She hadn't even looked at his lips before, well she saw them – she knew he had them – but she hadn't really looked at them. He could probably do some serious mouth to mouth with those.

She didn't get a chance to go any further as he interrupted her thoughts. "But it sounded impressive didn't it?"

"It did," Felicity said with a sharp intake of breath. She had to get her head back in the game. "I'm probably keeping you from your guests, Oliver Queen."

She didn't miss the crestfallen expression that graced his features at her halfhearted dismissal. Felicity didn't want him to leave. Quite the opposite really. Oliver was nice, and fun, and she really liked him.

But he was also a distraction.

"I'm happier over here," he said, almost as if sensing her hesitation. "With you."

Felicity had to bite back the laugh that bubbled up through her, threatening to make a scene at an otherwise lovely event. She knew Oliver Queen's reputation, most sought after bachelor with a trail of broken hearts behind him. She knew that he had probably said that to a thousand other women before her.

"Wow, what a line," she choked on her laugh, calling him out on his act.

"It's true though," Oliver said with a hint of offense at her comment, but she knew she had called him out. "You are providing far more interesting conversation than any other person in this room, and believe me, I've met them all"

And while every instinct in Felicity was screaming that everything he was saying was a line, purely produced to make her swoon, she stayed. Sure, his lines were cheesy, but as their conversation went on, Felicity felt herself falling deeper and deeper for the enigmatic man in front of her.

"I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do, though," Felicity said, keeping her smile casual. "It's not every day that someone comes back from the dead." As the words left her mouth, Felicity felt her eyes widen at what she had just said. "I mean you've been back for two years now so you're kind of … old news?" She finished with a wince.

She was pretty sure that talking about someone's five year involuntary island vacation was something you strayed away from.

But Oliver only bit his lip to hide a chuckle.

"You know, you're the first person tonight, to bring that up," he told her. "Most people find it bad decorum to bring that up."

"I'm so sorry," she rushed out. "I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive topic, but I have this problem, with my mouth, and sometimes I just can't control it. Not that I don't know how to control it. I'm actually quite skilled - oh god," Felicity winced, bringing her hand to her forehead to cut herself off while hiding her face from his watchful eye. "Is there a rock that I could hide under?"

The feel of Oliver's firm hand, grazing her exposed shoulder, brought Felicity's gaze to meet his eyes. Felicity expected him to excuse himself, or have a clear and present frown of confusion on his face – like most people. To her amazement, though, Oliver had an amused glint to his eyes while the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.

"I really hope you don't … hide, I mean." She watched as he cocked his head to the side, a slight hint of frustration visible as he tried to formulate a sentence. "It's nice, to have someone be honest with you. Most people here would brush over the fact that I've only been CEO for one year, ran a nightclub for another, and before that alternated my time between being shipwrecked and getting thrown in jail for public intoxication and peeing on cops."

Felicity wasn't expecting his comment, his dry self-deprecating comment, and nearly spit the champagne she just took a sip of, out of her mouth. It was a visible move, she noted, as Oliver ducked his head to hide his laughter.

"That's not funny," she jumped in after swallowing. "I didn't mean to laugh, I mean I did, laugh, but I didn't mean to nearly spit champagne all over you. You just catch me off guard," she told him in earnest.

It was shocking to Felicity how off her 'game' Oliver Queen was making her.

"Well, to be fair you only brought up the shipwreck." She watched as he tipped his glass to her and took a quick sip. "I'm the one who brought up all the other stuff."

She paused to watch him take a drink, studying the way his body moved, his muscles seemed constantly tense. "I understand not being the person you used to be." Oliver halted his movements at her comment. "I used to be this completely different person, really … _different_." _Different was an understatement_, she thought as an image of her nose ring flashed through her mind. "People tend to put you into categories by who you used to be, and even after you change, they still see you as that person."

It was the first time she had had an honest conversation with someone other than Sara in what seemed like a very long time … granted she was Felicity Smoak and not Meghan Carmichael, like he thought.

But everything she said to him was the truth.

"So, Meghan, you know who I am and who I used to be. Who are you?" His eyes, Felicity thought, were piercing straight through her. It was as if he was seeing her, Felicity.

"I'm Meghan. Plain-Jane, executive assistant, Meghan." She tried, lifting her glass to her lips as she did, hoping to escape his gaze. "Nothing special about me."

When he didn't respond right away with some cheesy line, she lifted her gaze to see his brow twisted in confusion. He looked as if he were studying her. As if he were committing each detail to memory.

He let a soft breath escape his lips before meeting her eyes. "I don't believe you."

She could tell, by the way his posture shifted ever so slightly towards hers and the way he held her stare, that he was telling the truth too.

Felicity just had a feeling about the man in front of her. It was a feeling that this man was a good person, a truthful person. She felt as though she could trust him.

Just as Oliver began to ask Felicity about her work, and what she did for a living, Detective Quentin Lance floated into her line of sight. Oliver soon faded away as she remembered why she was at this event – more importantly, why she was at this event _instead of_ Sara. Ultimately she had a job to do, for her and Sara.

"Meghan?" Felicity heard Oliver's voice greet her, jolting her back to the present. "Where'd you go just now?"

Felicity shook her head, clearing it from his melodic tone. If she was going to complete the job, she had to do it away from Oliver.

"I am _very_ sorry Oliver, but I have to go," Felicity told him before looking back to where Detective Lance stood, talking to a statuesque brunette – probably Sara's sister, Laurel.

And so Felicity Smoak moved further into the room, jammed the security sensor guarding the case of prized gems with a radio interference device built to look like a compact mirror, lifted the real earrings, and replaced them with the fakes she had stowed away in her clutch.

All in all, the theft took less than sixty seconds. She was quite gifted at lifting items when others weren't looking. It wasn't even one of her more impressive scores, hardly a memorable job.

But Oliver Queen, he would definitely be a good memory to keep.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

"Mr. Queen, I have the intel you requested." John Diggle, head of Black Hawk security, the company tasked with guarding the Queen family and all their earthly possession, approached the glass encased office of Oliver Queen.

Oliver could say that since he returned from the island the number of people he trusted had surely dwindled. John Diggle was one of the few people he trusted with not only his deepest secrets, but his life.

"Mr. Diggle, please, come in and have a seat." Oliver gestured to the chair across from his desk as he began to escort an older man in a pressed suit out of the office.

He didn't sit, but waited for Oliver instead. John knew that in order to do their jobs they had to keep up appearances. That meant calling each other Mr. Queen and Mr. Diggle when anyone was watching.

As Oliver shut the glass door to the office he gave John a tight lipped sigh of frustration.

"I never knew how taxing this job would be when I took it," Oliver said as he took a seat behind his glass and chrome metal desk, a far cry from the traditional mahogany his father had used.

"Who would have thought that our night job would be the easy one?" John asked with a small chuckle to which Oliver bit back a grin in agreement. "Anyway, I got that information you wanted."

"The Oracle?" Oliver asked, his interest peaked.

John nodded before handing the manila folder over to Oliver. "Turns out that signal jam two weeks ago-"

"The one that allowed 1.2 million dollars to walk away?" Oliver interrupted to reference the night they had been robbed in a very subtle way.

The night of the gala Oliver and John had increased security, but knew that those earrings were a hot ticket item. They were sure to attract any number of cons and professional thieves. It was against Oliver's better judgment to have them displayed, but Isabel and his mother insisted. Who was he to argue?

"That would be the one." John nodded, stoic expression in place. "Apparently that was the work of the Oracle."

"How can you tell?" Oliver asked as he flipped open the folder to glance through the documents linking the Oracle to his theft.

John moved to sit in the chair across from Oliver, knowing that his friend would not like what he was about to hear.

"A.R.G.U.S. received a burst transmission from an unknown source linking the Oracle to a known information technology expert. The woman you met that night, Ms. Carmichael, is the Oracle." John's voice was succinct and to the point. The perfect way he knew to deliver bad news.

John had watched his friend pine for a woman he spent all of ten minutes with, claiming that he had to find her. Oliver told John that there was something special … different about this woman.

_Well he wasn't wrong._

"That's impossible," Oliver said, glancing up at John's expression before returning to the papers in front of him. "This 'unknown source' must be trying to frame her for some reason."

"The Oracle has been tied to at least half a dozen high profile hacks in the last two years alone, not to mention her work overseas procuring valuable artifacts and works of art for the highest bidder." John expanded. "My sources can tie the Oracle to a Felicity Smoak, born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada, to a single mother who passed away two years ago. She graduated from MIT in 2009 with a master's degree at the age of twenty."

He paused to let Oliver absorb the information.

"The girl's a genius. It's no wonder she was able to get in and out without being detected."

Oliver looked up from the folder while shaking his head. None of John's information was getting through to him. John knew that. If someone told him Lyla's secret life in A.R.G.U.S. before he knew himself, he was sure his reaction would be similar.

"Felicity Meghan Smoak goes by several other aliases, one of which is relatively new, Meghan Carmichael." John continued. "The picture is a match as well."

Oliver flipped through the remaining pages, barely able to discern the words, until he reached the picture. It was a two paned picture, one to show Felicity Smoak from 2009 – black hair with a purple streak down the side, dark lipstick and thick eyeliner, and a few extra piercings with a graduation cap atop her head – and one of Meghan Carmichael – blonde hair, smiling, with a glass of champagne in her hand as she spoke with him two weeks prior.

The two women couldn't have looked more different, except for their eyes. Both Meghan and Felicity had the same pair of brilliant blue eyes that he recalled falling in love with the first time his met hers.

Oliver felt a small pang, a bruise, begin to form beneath his chest. Had she really been playing him the whole time?

"What would you like to do, sir?" John asked, breaking Oliver from his thoughts. "I don't need to remind you that this woman is a con-artist and has known connections to the Canary, a wanted jewel thief, and potential ties to the Huntress, who is a known assassin."

Oliver shook his head, still not believing what he was seeing. Megh-Felicity had seemed so harmless, so innocent. He felt it in his gut when he met her. His gut was never wrong about people. He couldn't afford for it to be.

But he made a vow – to protect the people of his city – to bring those who poisoned his city to justice. Whether their ten minutes together had meant something or not, it looked like he was going to have to have a conversation with Felicity Smoak, as the Arrow.


	3. The Canary

**AN: Thank you for leaving all your wonderful comments and favs/follows for this story. It doesn't seem to be gaining much traction over here, but I'm glad you all enjoy it. So this week was very hectic with work and left me little to no time, or energy, to edit and write. I didn't want to go too long outside of my self-imposed posting schedule so I edited this morning, but I can make no guarantees. I also want to state that while this story is canon-divergent I am planning on playing with the canon a bit (I'm not too sure on how far Starling City would be from Seattle, so I made it up). So some things may match up, and other points may not. I'm trying not to go overboard with my changes, but more in line with the flow.**

**This chapter is more about setting the stage, and for the length does not even begin to scratch the surface of Sara's and Felicity's back story and relationship. I really hope you enjoy this chapter and want to leave me some love at the end!**

_**Chapter 2: The Canary**_

As Sara finished her yoga exercise to the sound of a voicemail alert, and Felicity typed away in the other room, she couldn't help but smile at the life they brought to the abandoned structure around them.

After jobs they liked to have a safe place to land to regroup and assess their work. It also was easier to lay low when you had multiple safe houses scattered across the globe, which they did. This particular one was in Seattle, only a hundred or so miles shy of Starling City, and had only been used once before.

After returning the states a year prior, Sara and Felicity set up shop in an old abandoned dress making factory. Felicity hacked into city records and classified the site as 'unsafe' and provided a 'no trespass' order to assure that no one would accidentally stumble upon them. Upon entry to the building, Felicity had set to work on updating the security system, like she always did, and Sara worked on making the space more hospitable.

Sara never mentioned, although she suspected Felicity knew, the real reason for wanting to be so close to Starling City. Sara did miss her family, for all their differences, and sometimes liked to keep an eye on them. It had also come in handy when they had to pull the Queen Job only three weeks earlier.

Sara moved to pick up her phone, the one that Felicity had cloaked from the local cell towers, to retrieve her message. Sara didn't understand how Felicity did what she did, but just accepted it and moved on. Felicity was the only other person in the world that she trusted with her life besides herself. If Felicity said something needed to be done, Sara would believe her, _no questions asked._

Sara smiled at the sound of Floyd's recorded voice over her cell phone receiver saying "good work, ladies." It was his customary call after they finished a job.

Big or small, he would find a way to get in touch to see how it went. Sometimes he already knew through the papers or internet searches – which was the case this time, Sara assumed – and sometimes he didn't.

Based on her relationship with Floyd, which was a tight rope walk between emotionless and paternal admiration, Sara wondered if these calls were his way of making sure she was still alive. For some reason, the man known as _'Deadshot'_ in criminal circles, had a soft spot for her – and for Felicity.

"The news channels are constantly replaying the story of the attempted theft of the Queen family jewels." His voice full of pride. "Good idea to place the decoys so the press didn't get wind and run wild with the story."

Replacing the real gems with fakes had been Felicity's idea. Leaving the real ones would have caused an immediate panic at the gala, which would have prevented her quick escape. The fact that it also helped to keep them off the radar was a bonus.

"I'll be in Corto Maltese," _working a job,_ Sara caught the implication. "For the next few weeks and'll be out of range. You know how to reach me."

Seven years ago, Floyd had taken her under his wing in New York City, and pretty much taught her everything she knew. She had just been pulling petty thefts at that point, stealing the random quartz watch in the subway or pick pocketing a wallet off a Wall Street hot shot, but had no real experience. She had only been on the run for a little over eight months and was still a little lost.

Sara knew what she was doing was risky. Every time she saw a police officer on the street she wondered if they were going to take her back to Starling City, and her family. She wondered when it would be her turn to have the handcuffs slapped on her wrists and pulled into an interview room, or a line up, for all her bad deeds.

Though, it wasn't the thought of going to prison that bothered her, strangely enough. Sure, it was a place she would rather avoid, but for Sara, the thought of her parents and sister's disapproving faces troubled her more.

Still, it wasn't enough to make her want to go home. The rush that came when she got away with her crimes fueled her passion and made her feel invincible. It was enough for her, in the beginning at least.

At night she would lie awake and wonder where her life had gone wrong and why she wasn't normal like her family. Her parents had been loving and stable. Her sister, Laurel, was living proof of their success as parents with her fast track to law school and billionaire boyfriend. Her parents never neglected or abused Sara, either. They loved her unconditionally and made sure that she knew that. For how busy her father and mother both were, they never missed a school play or sporting event, and always had dinner as a family.

It made Sara wonder what was wrong with _her_. What deep seated psychological trouble had been brewing in her to make her want to steal from people? What created the urge to trick and deceive? And more importantly, why didn't Sara care enough to stop?

Hurting people wasn't what she wanted, but she couldn't deny that innocent people could get caught in the cross hairs of her actions. Her moral compass at least knew that much. After two months of just stealing, Sara made it a point to _pay it forward._ Some nights she would walk the streets near her crappy apartment that she rented with cash and enacted her own form of justice.

She would watch, and wait, for some idiot kid to lift a woman's purse and then she would act, laying the kid out flat on the pavement. Being a cop's daughter meant that she had introductory self-defense skills from years of hanging around police officers. For Sara, stopping an innocent person from getting hurt made up for all the misdeeds she did during daylight hours. It became a pattern for Sara, riding the subway during the day or conning street thieves out of their own take, before performing her own vigilante like justice at night.

She didn't claim to be fighting for any moral sense of right and wrong. She didn't think of herself as a hero when she would pull some asshole off of a defenseless woman, or man, and use her physical strength to swing him around and into the nearby brick wall of a building, rendering him unconscious. She only thought of evening the score she set with herself.

Then Floyd came along with his high priced jobs and offer of training. He told her the first night, when he caught her lifting a tip bucket outside of the fro-yo stand around the block from her latest 'save,' that she had been sloppy, and lucky so far.

Just as she had been pulling the bucket towards her, Floyd's hand slapped over her own. Shocked at being caught, finally, she tried to withdraw her hand from the vice like grip before looking up at the man who had caught her. He had a glass eye, which was the first thing she noted, before taking in where his index finger rested against his lips.

He escorted her to a diner two blocks over where he bought her a cup of coffee. Sarah remembered the diner in vivid color, still to the present day. The red booths were faded with small slits in the aged leather. The smell of burnt bacon reach her nostrils as soon as she entered, and one of the waitresses behind the counter was smoking a cigarette with a look of challenge for the legislation that prevented others from smoking in public spaces.

She expected the customary speech of _'you are going down the wrong path'_ or _'why are you wasting your life in crime?'_ as this strange man she didn't know led her to a booth in the back. It was the speech she assumed her parents would give her, accompanied by disappointed head shakes from Laurel, before they sent her away to some rehabilitation center.

That's what adults did. They took your dreams, no matter how small or big, and crushed them with reality. Stealing from people seemed like a strange dream to most, but to Sara it was a challenge. She wanted to see how far she could go, how much she could collect.

How good could she be?

It was a selfish motivation, or at least that was what she thought now. She had been a child then, so lost and alone, with a skill set that others didn't understand. While her family practiced law and history, she could pick a lock in under thirty seconds. Laurel was good at arguing her point, Sara was good at convincing others to do her will without realizing it wasn't their choice.

The man before her waited until one of the other waitresses, who looked almost dead on her feet, poured them both a cup of coffee. Sara wondered what the woman's story was. What made her work the graveyard shift? The deep circles under her eyes read a story of sleepless nights either working to make a living or worrying over her troubles.

The woman's nails had a light salmon color to them, chipped at the edges, while her fingers were long and delicate. She had a wedding band on her left hand, Sara noted. It was small and nondescript while silently telling the tale of hardship.

"Your execution is sloppy," Floyd told her as his fingers danced along the lip of the ceramic mug in front of him, the waitress now forgotten. "There were at least three security cameras you failed to notice, along with the fact of your apartment right around the corner. Stealing that bucket would have painted a bright red target on your back."

Sara took a sharp breath before glancing at the empty diner, save for the two waitresses who were looking through some tabloid at the counter and marrying the ketchups.

She leaned in close to whisper, unsure if she should be afraid or angry. "Were you following me?"

Floyd chuckled, light and airy, almost as if tailing her was the most ludicrous idea he had ever heard.

"You're hard to miss," he told her honestly before taking a gulp of the steaming brown liquid. "You've been playing your little game on the wrong turf for about two weeks now, and people are starting to get pissed."

Sara snorted, something her sister would never do, before leaning back in her chair. "Funny, I didn't see a 'no thieving' sign on any of the street posts."

Sara watched as the man in front of her bit his bottom lip, holding back another laugh. With his mug in hand, he lifted his index finger to point at her.

"You've got balls, I'll give you that, stealing wallets and watches during the day, but stopping muggers at night," he said before taking a sip of his drink. "The people you're crossing don't have my same sense of humor."

"So what?" Sara asked, trying her best to remain nonchalant and unfazed by his message, never let 'em see you sweat, was what her father always said. "You're here to tell me to back off? The streets are no place for a 'pretty little thing like me?'"

He shrugged as he let his eyes (or eye, Sara thought to herself) drift over the young woman before him, sizing her up.

"I'm here to make you an offer." Sara leaned forward in interest. She knew she should be afraid, but felt a familiar excitement begin to boil in her stomach. "You've got skill, it's unpolished, but it's there."

"So you have been watching me," Sara chortled.

"I've heard rumors about some kid who has been breaking a lot of rules that were set in place for a reason," He told her, voice suddenly lower. "It would do you well to learn these rules because the best thieves, the smartest cons, stick to a code."

"Seriously? What about the saying 'there's no honor among thieves?'" Sara wanted to laugh at how serious this man was. She felt as though she was sitting at the dining room table listening to her parents argue over case law and what historical norms and rules set forth.

"Seriously, Sara Lance," he drawled out, causing her to sit a little straighter, the red leathered booth creaking in protest as she did. "The best cons also do their homework, and you can bet if I found out who you were, soon your cop daddy is going to be beating down your door."

Sara felt her back stiffen at the thought of her father coming to New York to drag her home. She didn't want to leave. She didn't fit in with their cookie cutter idea of who she should be.

"What's the code?" Sara asked, her voice no louder than a whisper, and feeling like a scolded child. "You said there's a code, and I'm guessing I'm breaking it. What is it?"

Floyd looked sideways at where the waitresses still sat, reading their papers and laughing about something.

"Each person's code is different," he told her honestly. "Some vow not use weapons, some vow not to steal from those less off," Floyd shrugged as he took a breath. "Me, my code is simple. Don't piss off anyone with a bigger gun."

Sara paused to let his words sink in, not fully understanding what he meant.

"So you mean …?" She trailed off.

"You're pissing off a lot of people, with very big guns," he finished.

"Just so I understand," she tried to clarify. "You don't mean actual guns right, more like figurative guns?"

Floyd laughed. "How have you survived this long by yourself?" Sara bristled at the comment. "Yes, I mean literal guns … and figurative, but mostly literal."

"So you want to teach me how to not piss anyone off?" Sara asked, still confused, but not wanting to show it.

The idea that she would fail at the only thing she really loved doing made her scared. Scared of what would happen next, of having to be the girl she once was. She didn't want to be little Sara Lance anymore. She wanted to be something else - someone else.

"No, I want to teach you how to do it so that no one knows you're the one who did it," he told her with a Cheshire like grin. "The whole point is to do it without anyone knowing it was you."

Sara nodded, finally understanding part of what he was saying.

"By the time they figure out it was you, you'll be long gone with a quarter of a million of their dollars and you'll have a brand new identity." Floyd said with a wink.

Sara tried to picture it. A life where she was feeling the rush every day, getting her natural high, and being good at it. She would be so good that no one knew her name. She could be anyone she wanted to be.

"So you'll train me?" She asked, feeling a rousing feeling flood deep in her belly.

Floyd's lips lifted in a sly smile, as if the idea was both amusing and enriching. As if he just found his next hidden treasure in this young girl seated before him.

Without a word he raised his hand in an offer of partnership and loyalty. A promise that he would train this child into the kind of con he could take credit for – his greatest success.

She didn't know it then, but when Sara took Floyd Lawton's proffered hand, she was changing the very nature of her life.

Had she not, she would have gone back to Starling City in two weeks' time with the overwhelming sense of failure. She would have gone home and felt the overwhelming feeling of failure and emptiness that came with living a life she didn't want.

Sara would have slept with her sister's on-again-off-again boyfriend while decimating the relationship she had with both her sister and father, all in hopes of feeling that rush of excitement she no longer felt.

Her mother would have taken her side, like her mother always did, and then become the basis for a series of arguments between her parents until finally they separated.

When Sara Lance took Floyd Lawton's extended hand, she accepted the potential for greatness. Her future. As he led her out of the diner that night she could only feel happiness and a burning desire to challenge herself like never before.

It only took her two days with Floyd to leave the country to begin to meet and train with a series of well-seasoned con-artists and thieves. She completely missed the news report a month later about Laurel's on-again-off-again boyfriend, Oliver Queen. She didn't see the pictures of the formerly pristine Queen's Gambit pre-launch, before the storm hit and sank it to the ocean floor.

Sara didn't know that Oliver Queen was dead, and that her choice to leave home had saved her own life.

* * *

Felicity worked silently, fingers steadily typing away at the keyboard. The feel of the smooth keys beneath her finger tips, the sound of the letters clicking in their execution, all helped to center her, to bring her focus.

As a child her mother would tell Felicity how busy she was. Donna Smoak was an energetic woman by nature – with blonde hair, six inch high heels, and a rolling enthusiasm for all things Felicity – was what she would tell her daughter.

Her mother also added that Felicity's energy put her to shame.

She would tell Felicity how there would be nights when Donna couldn't get her six year old child to sleep because she was rambling on and on about some theory she just read at the library, or some new techno-whatever invention. Donna just couldn't keep up.

Felicity loved that her mother tried, though. Donna Smoak made every effort to be there for her daughter from working double shifts in skin tight dresses with bright red lips to earn extra tips, to attending after school PTA meetings with parents who gave her side long glances and whispered behind her back.

She took on second jobs and saved all her money so that she could send Felicity to the best school possible, and be there for the big move to Massachusetts. Donna even used an old water jug that was going to be disposed of at the casino to keep track of her savings. Every night she would put in her remaining change or few dollar bills.

Some months would be harder than others and would lead Donna to emptying the jug in order to pay the bills, Felicity's impacted wisdom teeth removal surgery, or to pay for a new transmission when it went in her old, red VW Jetta.

But soon after, Donna would pick herself back up and start saving again.

Felicity did earn her way to MIT with scholarships and grants, to which Donna had no doubt. Her mother's savings had helped pay for dorm room supplies and a new computer – the kind that Felicity really wanted.

Felicity promised herself that no matter what, she would take care of her mother, just like Donna took care of her. After seeing her mother's unfailing support, Felicity wanted nothing more than to make her mother's life a little bit easier.

Every week, Felicity would send home a check with a portion of her campus paycheck with a note. Just in case, she would tell her mother. What Felicity didn't tell Donna was that she earned that paycheck in part through her job as an IT tech at the school's help desk, and in large part through her extracurricular hacking.

Apparently the sons and daughters of the school's elite legacies were into some pretty heavy duty activities of their own, and wanted their record's 'cleansed' prior to graduation. Along with her now ex-beau, Felicity earned quite the sum of money by hacking into local, state, and even federal government sites to alter official documents – all while leaving no trace behind.

Not only did she earn more money than she could have imagined, but she was having fun. The rush she felt when getting out of a system just before the firewalls came crashing down was none like she had ever experienced before.

If it wasn't for her break up with Cooper, she may have stuck with it. Cooper took a position with the NSA before graduation while promising Felicity he would never sell her secrets. But this was a man who had sworn off all things government and government related, vehemently.

She didn't trust him to keep her secrets, and she didn't trust him with her skills. Felicity ended the relationship before taking her own job, working in IT on Wall Street, while erasing any evidence that she had ever been a hacker.

It wasn't exactly what she pictured for her life, but it was enough to pay the bills and send money home to her mother. After all, she only wanted to protect her mother.

"Lawton called." Felicity tensed at the sound of her partner approaching from behind her.

It made Felicity, and Sara, nervous at how un-alert Felicity was when it came to people entering rooms and spaces. Felicity would joke that Sara needed to make more noise when she entered a room, and Sara would respond that Felicity needed to learn to pay more attention to her surroundings.

"Not paying attention again, I see," Sara laughed as she leaned against the side of Felicity's chrome desk. "What did we talk about?"

"Who said I wasn't paying attention?" Felicity asked before turning back to the screen in front of her. "I totally heard you come up behind me."

"That's why your shoulders went ram-rod straight when I told you that Lawton called," Sara noted while gesturing to Felicity's still uncomfortably straight posture. "At least you didn't scream this time, which means you're getting better."

Felicity huffed under her breath before turning to ignore her friend. As much as she loved Sara, she sometimes felt as though she took her less seriously because Felicity wasn't as physically able.

"You were saying about Floyd?" Felicity asked in hopes of changing the subject. "Is he coming to visit?"

Sara gave a light laugh before grabbing the paperweight beside her on the desk to toss back and forth in her hands.

"Apparently he's in Corto Maltese on a job, said he was proud of us for the Queen Job," Sara said with a soft smile. "He didn't know that you were the one on the inside, or else he probably would have had a hefty lecture to accompany that 'congrats.'"

"Well, if you guys trusted me on jobs, then there would be no lectures," she muttered without looking, hurt evident in her tone.

"Hey," Sara's voice was low, soothing, but received no response. "Felicity," she tried again and waited for Felicity to turn her head. "You know that we care about you, and we don't want you to get hurt."

Felicity nodded her head before leaning back in her chair, away from the computer. "It's just that your version of 'caring' feels an awful lot like I'm some incapable child who can't take care of themselves."

Sara shook her head before hopping up onto the desk, setting the paperweight down as she did.

"You're my best friend, more like a sister really," she said in contemplation. "You are the smartest, strongest person that I know, and you can learn anything that you even try. Felicity Smoak, you are the furthest thing from a child."

Felicity felt the corners of her lips lift as she heard Sara's words.

"In fact, without you I'm pretty much lost," Sara laughed. "So when I say that I don't like you in the field, it's not because I don't think you can handle it, I'm just trying to keep you away from danger."

"The Queen Job was not dangerous and you still had issues with that," Felicity hedged with less frustration than before.

"The security guards had guns and Tasers, and you totally walked out of there all smitten for Oliver Queen," Sara winked. "That crush alone is dangerous."

"I am not … Oliver Queen, please," she said with a roll of her eyes before attempting to change topics. "The room was well lit, crowded, and full of escape routes."

Sara laughed again before placing her hand on the desk closer to where Felicity sat with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You've seriously been doodling his name in code for the past three weeks," Sara said lightheartedly. She saw Felicity attempt to argue but stopped herself, mouth snapping shut with the knowledge she had been caught. "Please don't ever feel like I don't value what you do," Sara whispered. "You've saved my life more times than I could count … remember Prague? That was all you."

Felicity snorted at the memory of their job in Prague, and who they met while they were there.

"Yeah, at least I haven't attached us to any deadly assassins."

Nyssa Raatko was an assassin, a fact they had not known at the time, who needed assistance breaking into a secure vault in a high security office building in Prague. It was a job that could have cost them their lives more so than their freedom, a fact Felicity didn't ignore when she began to lecture Nyssa post-job.

"Hey, at least we earned the respect of a badass, female warrior who just so happens to be the daughter of the world's most deadly assassins," Sara smirked. "I think that earns us a few favors along the way."

"You do realize that if you ever want to break up with her, both of us would have to drop off the face of the earth because she would hunt us down and kill us both?" Felicity said seriously. After Felicity lectured one of the most dangerous women they had met, Sara began to date her. "Forget what her father would do."

"Who said I'm breaking up with her?" Sara winked before hopping off the table. "Nyssa and I have a connection that cannot be defined by any set of standards. I'd be crazy to let something like that pass me by."

Felicity understood her point, at least about the connection. Dating an assassin, not so much.

"At least Oliver Queen doesn't have a penchant for putting sharp pointy objects into people," Felicity murmured more to herself than Sara's retreating form.

"I heard that," Sara chastised before leaving the room.

_**Thank you for reading!**_


	4. Tech Support

**AN: You are each so lovely and wonderful for your favs, likes, and comments. I have loved reading each review and hearing your feedback about the chapters! Thank you all so much!**

**I'm not quite sure how I feel about this chapter, but I'm excited to hear what you all think.**

* * *

The sounds of metal hitting metal greeted John Diggle as he walked down the staircase from the active nightclub above his and Oliver's secret base of operations. He was supposed to meet Oliver upstairs, in the office Oliver shared with his sister and business partner.

Instead, when John's feet hit the concrete floor, he found Oliver working out his aggression on the salmon ladder. It was something that Oliver did frequently, it was one way to stick to his vow, his way of releasing the tension without killing.

After the undertaking that claimed most of the Glades, Oliver had been too lost to find a new way of securing the city's residents. Even though Oliver had been diligent, even though he worked tirelessly to rid the city of the poison running through the system, and even though Oliver killed Malcolm, he wasn't fast enough.

Diggle watched as Oliver fought to live with himself over his perceived failure, how the pain in Oliver's eyes would grow in intensity as they walked through the Glades at night. Diggle could see his friend's perceived failure wear on him to the point that Oliver barely resembled Oliver, the man who fought for five years to come home, anymore.

In the end it was Tommy, Oliver's oldest friend, who first suggested the new plan the night they caught Oliver on his way out of town.

Up until that point, John thought of Tommy as some conceited, rich kid who played hero for one night when he rescued his girlfriend from a falling beam during the Undertaking. Tommy spent the next few weeks in the hospital alternating between the intensive care unit and his private room on the exclusive Queen wing.

To John, Tommy had no idea what he was getting into when he found out about Oliver's secret life. Out of the three of them, Tommy had the slightest involved and been impacted least. Until that night.

But when they found Oliver with his brown pack slung over his shoulder, Diggle saw a deeper side of Merlyn. To see Tommy yell at Oliver, claim that Oliver didn't have to run away, he hadn't failed, and could stay and fight the same way he had been – but without the killing – showed his character to Diggle.

Tommy cared for Oliver like a brother, and brothers didn't leave each other behind. That was a trait Diggle could support.

And it worked. Tommy's motivation was just what Oliver needed to stay in Starling and support his kid sister while continuing to rebuild the Glades without the bloodshed and body count.

But Digg found Oliver pounding away at the mats and practice dummies more and more. From his own experience, John knew this was Oliver's way of relieving the stress and tension he carried with him … from the faces that haunted his nightmares of all the lives he took.

Oliver would brush it off as not letting anyone get the upper hand on him, or that his conscience was clear. Everything that Oliver had done was to protect Starling, he would say, and he couldn't regret that. He only regretted not being quick enough and the lives he hadn't save.

"Oh thank god you're here." Diggle turned to look to the computer chair where Tommy Merlyn sat with a bored, but now relieved expression. "He has been doing this stupid ladder thing for like an hour."

John looked to where Oliver jumped from the top rung, landing with ease. It was one of the things about Oliver Queen that had always made him question what really happened those five years away. A trust fund brat turned soldier of sorts, it still puzzled John to think about.

"You didn't have to stay down here," Oliver shot back at Tommy while bringing a towel up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"How long have you been at it?" John asked, ignoring the bickering, all while knowing the answer.

He left him at four in the afternoon at Oliver's loft, which was shared with his sister, before returning to Verdant four hours later. It was easy to imagine Oliver changing out his clothing for the evening before heading straight to the foundry to work out his excess steam.

While Oliver had his usual reasons to double up on his work outs, he seemed to be doing them more so lately. Diggle believed that the renewed sense of motivation for the salmon ladder had something to do with a certain blonde jewel thief.

"Only a few hours," Oliver said in an offhand tone. "Tommy's been working on the computers so I thought I'd keep him company."

Tommy looked up from his spot at the monitor and keyboard with a small salute, and customary roll of his eyes, before ducking his head.

"You make any progress?" Diggle asked, full well knowing the answer.

When Tommy had offered to 'help' team Arrow instead of being a silent partner who let them run their operation out of the club basement, he probably didn't have tech support in mind. With Oliver and Diggle both out on the streets each night, it was difficult to run support back in the lair.

Diggle had asked his wife for help, but all she had been able to do was provide them with old equipment, which was still five models newer than what they had been using.

Tommy's ask to help had been much needed, but neither man took into account Tommy's little to no experience working with computers.

"Seeing as how my skill set doesn't exactly align with technology and I have no idea what I'm reading," he said as he lifted the book '_Introduction to Data Mining'_ from the table to show both men. "I think we're doing well."

"I thought you knew how to work with computers?" Oliver huffed.

Tommy looked between both men pointedly. "I can do book keeping on the Mac upstairs, but I can't hack my way into traffic cameras."

Oliver turned to look at Digg, frustration written along the lines of his face.

"Don't look at me, you're the one who gave him the job." Diggle held up both hands before moving to the medical equipment where he planned to catalogue their supplies.

"Why don't you just ask your girlfriend to do the hacking?" Tommy muttered, causing Diggle to freeze.

Over the past three weeks both men had found that any mention of Meghan Carmichael was not welcome. Oliver had felt genuine feelings for this woman, so real in fact that he had been trying to locate her and then shut himself 'off' when Diggle brought him the news that the woman he had searching for had been their thief.

The idea that Oliver Queen could no longer differentiate whether or not a woman was playing him, when it was all he was raised to do, was disconcerting. The fact that this particular woman not only played him, but stole from him, and seemingly evaded all avenues to find her was downright frustrating.

Before the Gambit sank he had been a playboy, he would admit it. He hurt a lot of people during that time and caused a lot of heartbreak. Most notably was Laurel Lance, his on again, off again girlfriend of most of his childhood and adolescence.

It took being stranded on a semi-deserted island had for him to change his ways.

While he couldn't take back years of lying, cheating, and manipulation, he could work to make himself a better man in the here and now. At least he was trying.

When he first came home, when he made that choice, dating had been the last thing on his mind. Saving his city had been first, reconnecting with his sister and mother was second, and making amends with Laurel was third.

His relationship with Laurel had always been tumultuous, in large part because of him. The way he had ended it with her, before he ran away on his father's yacht, could have gone better.

"_Ollie, I _just _put down the security deposit," Laurel argued over the phone. "It took weeks for my father to even entertain the idea of us moving in together and now you're suddenly backing out?"_

_He could hear her anger and frustration over the line. Anger that he let her down once again, frustrated that she should have seen it coming. Oliver knew all the right buttons to push to make her upset, and then withdraw from him._

_He had been a coward when it came to their relationship. At the first sign of real intimacy he would run in the opposite direction._

"_I'm sorry, I just …" He trailed off as he held the phone to his ear, hating this part of their repeated conversations. "I need some space."_

"_You need space?" Laurel asked, although her question was phrased more as complicit resignation. "This argument sounds familiar."_

"_I'm sorry, Laurel. I just," he paused to look around his room. What excuse hadn't he used on her? What lie hadn't he told to push her away before pulling her back in? "I wish I could treat you better."_

_He heard her sigh over the other end._

"_You know, when my sister left, all I wanted was for you to be there." He nodded before he realized she couldn't see him. "All I wanted was for you to hold me and tell me that it would be_ ok, _and that Sara would come home. But instead you went to Vegas with Tommy and got _arrested _for public intoxication."_

_Oliver let his head fall to his chest. He was all too familiar with the story, he'd lived it after all._

"_So when you say you wish you could treat me better, you have to realize what a load of absolute shit that is." He almost didn't believe her when she said the words. She never reacted this way before, never snapped back when he dropped his lines._

"_I hope you have a good time, Oliver," she snapped. "But don't call me when you get back."_

_The dial tone was also an unfamiliar sound to his ears. She never hung up on him before either. In a way he wondered if he had pushed her too hard, or if she really was done with him._

_In the past she had been upset, and argued her case for why they belonged together, but she never agreed that they were better off apart. They always found their way back to their dysfunction._

After his time on the island, and in Hong Kong and Russia, he realized that the way he had behaved before had maybe not been the best way. When he came home, his love for Laurel was more of the familiar kind. He loved her because he knew her, and she knew him. Well, the old him.

Seeing her again, her casual relief over him being alive, and seeing the way her eyes held a light when Tommy came into view, was enough for Oliver. He may have made a mess of their relationship when they were younger, but he could leave it behind him, finally. To leave the prospect of a relationship and love behind him too.

Then he met Meghan, the fiery blonde in the red dress that engaged him in the most intense and animated conversation he had had in years. Without thinking, he felt like he could be open with her, as if she would not judge him for his past deeds – the blood on his hands – and that she would be the woman who would comfort him, and challenge him.

When he told Diggle this, later that night, John merely shook his head with a grin on his lips. Tommy said that he was crazy, you couldn't get that much information from a person in one twenty minute conversation, and Thea – well Thea was intrigued about the mystery woman.

But Meghan wasn't Meghan. Meghan was Felicity, and Felicity was a thief and con-artist who bamboozled him.

"In other news," Tommy's eyes widened at his mistake, while attempting to change the subject. "Laurel is making dinner tonight, so I have to stop at Big Belly Burger and pick up some burgers, fries, and milkshakes before going home."

Diggle paused to look at the man who was putting on his black suit jacket. "You really have such little faith in your fiancée that you'd pick up extra food when she's cooking you a meal?"

Tommy looked to Oliver before looking back at Diggle, a light smile on his face.

"I pray that one day you try Laurel's cooking," he said before clapping the older man on the back. "Then we'll see who has little faith."

Diggle gave a chuckle before shaking the younger man's hand good bye.

"Oliver, I would seriously suggest hiring an actual IT person to help sort through all of this," Tommy said as he gestured to the computer system.

Oliver nodded in agreement before watching Tommy leave for the night. One thing Oliver was grateful for, was Tommy's support after finding out that he was the Hood.

Tommy had found out the truth on accident one night. He had been leaving the club when Oliver had been coming in. Oliver normally waited until Tommy was gone to come back, or he would use the alley entrance. But one night, Oliver couldn't make it to the alley, after finding himself on the wrong end of 9 milimeter.

It was a scratch really, didn't even need stiches, but it hurt just enough that Oliver let himself be distracted. He hadn't seen the light on in the manager's office when he crossed the threshold of the club, and didn't hear Tommy follow him to the door.

In fact, he had been so distracted, that he nearly sent an arrow through Tommy's chest when he heard him gasp, directly over his shoulder.

It hadn't been easy, his friend finding out the truth. They argued on Oliver's methods more than they agreed, but Tommy stayed. Each night when Oliver came to work, Tommy was there, trying to help Oliver on his path.

"Lyla said they got some intel," Diggle spoke up, drawing Oliver away from the work out dummy he was about to practice with. "Apparently China White has resurfaced in Russia."

Oliver nodded once, before turning back to the wooden beam in front of him.

"You know," Diggle spoke up again, this time closer to where Oliver stood. "Everything you're feeling right now is justified."

Oliver's left hook left the dummy vibrating before he landed another punch.

"And what am I feeling Digg?" Oliver grunted.

"Come on man, you felt something for this girl. Something real, that you've never felt before, if your reaction as of late has been any indication." Diggle shuffled to the work bench before leaning against it, both hands in his pockets.

Diggle sighed as Oliver continued to move around the practice dummy with ease, seemingly ignoring him.

"She fooled a lot of people that night," John told him.

"She fooled me," Oliver cut in, panting heavily as he landed one more hit to the dummy in front of him. "_Me_. Digg, that's not supposed to happen."

"Why? Because you're Oliver Queen?" John challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Playboy, billionaire who leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake?"

"Because I'm smarter than I used to be," Oliver breathed out, chest heaving from the exertion of his workout. "And because reading people, like _her_, is imperative to the work we do here," Oliver told him, moving to the table behind Diggle to grab his water bottle. "We knew someone was casing the museum, and this woman shows up and admits to me that she was just '_in town'_ and had to see the diamonds, and I what? Completely cross her off the suspect list?"

"To be fair," Diggle tried, seeing the hurt that Oliver was trying to hide. "She didn't exactly seem like the type who would rob a convenience store, let alone a high security museum,"

Diggle saw their conversation, he watched the way the woman stared at Oliver and vice versa. Women would stare at Oliver often, they would stare deeply into his eyes in hopes of getting a glimpse of his famous wallet or even his abs. Women finding Oliver attractive wasn't something new for Diggle.

But this woman, she was different. Meghan – or Felicity – had looked at Oliver as if he had been what was missing in her life. He recognized the look, the look of pure adoration and warmth that radiated every time their eyes met. The way Felicity looked at Oliver was the way Lyla looked at him.

It was part of the reason, Diggle believed, that Oliver didn't even blink when she told him her story. It was the reason why she never made it near their suspect list, and was able to walk out of the museum with 1.2 million dollars' worth of rare antiquities.

"If I've learned anything, it's that there is no 'type,'" Oliver told him, gaze focused.

"So say we find her," Diggle prompted, pushing himself off of the table to stand directly in front of Oliver. "Say all this research and tracking pays off and we corner her. What are you going to do? Put an arrow in her?" Oliver's face twisted at the thought, showing what Diggle knew.

Oliver hadn't planned that far ahead. He hadn't thought about what it would do to him to come face to face with Felicity Smoak. While Felicity hadn't physically harmed anyone, to their knowledge, she was still a criminal – and Oliver was going to have to come to terms with that fact, _before_they caught her.

"You're taking this personally, and when it comes down to it, you won't be able to make the call." Oliver looked up to Diggle's challenge, placing the words and their meaning as he did.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, let's focus on the criminals we can find, the ones causing mayhem in the city," Diggle told him softly, catching the expression of confliction on Oliver's face. "And when she comes back through, we'll get her then."

Oliver nodded along, still no definite plan of what they would do after they found her. He felt more ok with that than most things. He knew Felicity was a thief, and that she was consistently breaking the law, but he was having a hard time putting her on the same level as some of the other criminals he had encountered.

And that scared him.

What if he couldn't make the call when they caught her? What if he let her go because of these feelings coursing through his veins every time he thought of her? He didn't want to turn her over to the police, he wanted to save her. He knew that, and he knew that he couldn't share that information with Diggle or Tommy.

So when he asked his next question, he tried harder than he should have, to veil the sadness and fear in his tone.

"What if she doesn't come back?" The question was short, and hard, but Oliver's eyes betrayed him.

Diggle saw what he believed Oliver still couldn't see, what was written clearly on Oliver's face every time they spoke of her. They would never _catch_Felicity Smoak … but they would find her.

* * *

The buzzer of the warehouse door broke Sara from her concentration, her _hard earned_ concentration. One of her favorite past times was Tai-Chi, and the meditation that she was able to receive. It helped her focus on jobs, and it brought her a sense of inner well-being that punching bags and training mats only partially gave her.

Every morning, before her regular yoga routine, Sara would practice Tai-Chi as a way of preparing herself mentally. After yoga, Sara would take to the mats and practice the martial arts skills she picked up from random associates, most recently Nyssa.

They had only been with Nyssa for four weeks, but Sara still picked learned so many new skills from her, among other things. Sara shook her head at the memories of Nyssa and her sparring, which after week two, became their form of foreplay.

The buzzer sounded again, shattering Sara's concentration, once and for all.

Felicity insisted that they put in the buzzer whenever they took up residence somewhere new. She claimed that while perimeter sensors were great, which they had, it was still useful to have an extremely loud, and equally annoying, doorbell.

Hence the buzzer.

It only took Sara one eye roll and a frustrated sigh for Felicity to come running into the room, a fearful expression on her face.

"What is it?" Sara asked, standing to her full height, which was only a couple inches taller than Felicity.

"You remember how Floyd told us that there were people to avoid when we started our high profile jobs. People who were dangerous, and would gladly stab us in the back when the jobs were done, both literally and figurative, although I much preferred the figurative in that scenario, because getting stabbed is bad enough, but getting stabbed in the back has got to be pretty painful when you can't even-"

"Felicity. Rambling," Sara snapped as she moved to the side table to grab her gun.

"Right, ok," Felicity said as tried to take in a deep breath. "China White, chief enforcer for the Triad, is at our front door."


	5. The Bratva Job

**I can't thank you all enough for your words of encouragement and your kudos. I am loving this story, and the more I see you all enjoy it, the more inspired I become.**

**Here we see the beginnings of how Felicity and Oliver will meet each other again.**

**I do apologize for this chapter. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it, but no matter what I did editing wise this is where it ended up. I hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

"Shit!" Sara cursed as she moved to the end table that held her gun. Just because they didn't like using weapons did not mean they were against having them. "How did she even find us?"

Felicity shrugged a response and began to swipe through her tablet. Sara imagined Felicity was running diagnostics to check for any possible surprises. Well, other than China White standing outside their front door.

On a normal day, it took Felicity twenty four hours to update each of the security systems, which was a long amount of time for Felicity to do anything. So Sara had been relieved when Felicity mentioned her ability to start the scans from a remote location which meant they didn't need to visit each safe house to update.

But having someone breach their exterior sensors, _and_ make it all the way to the front door was concerning. Sara could only imagine how furious Felicity felt. She hated being bested, which did not happen often, when it came to technology.

"Bright side is that our locks are impenetrable so the likelihood of her being able to break in are slim to none," Felicity chattered as she continued working.

"Yeah, but we'll still need to get out, and there is always a point of egress somewhere we haven't thought of." Sara motioned for Felicity to move against the wall as she cocked her gun towards the floor.

"I know you're in there." The distinct, flowing voice of the woman they were hiding from sounded loud throughout the room, causing Sara to jump into a ready pose, gun aimed at the door.

"Sorry, I had the volume up," Felicity winced as she began to lower the volume and direct the tablet so that Sara could see the security camera feed.

Sara sighed before lowering her weapon and moving closer to Felicity.

"I have a job for you both, a very profitable job, if you are interested," Chien's voice came across as bored and uninterested, but Sara knew that the enforcer of the Chinese Triad didn't just 'knock' on your door for no reason.

Early on in her career, Floyd taught her to keep her head low, and not to piss off the wrong people. Sometimes that couldn't be helped, but she always made the extra effort when researching jobs to determine if someone higher up on the food chain was already there. She had also begun training herself in hand to hand combat, the use of various weapons, and the art of self-defense with the help of Nyssa and Floyd.

Just because they didn't like using weapons was no reason for them to not know how.

Felicity had even gained a few lessons over the years, but tried to remain strictly technology based – until recently. Felicity had come to her a completely different person than she was now. The girl who showed up on her doorstep with Floyd in tow was all pink button downs and cardigan sweaters with the word 'innocent' scribbled across her forehead.

Sara watched as the young blonde became immersed in the world of thievery and criminal activity, hacking her way through firewalls and state of the art security systems. It was then Sara noted Felicity's true colors.

She wasn't some weak, delicate flower that needed to learn the world's big bad lessons, but a survivor. Sara didn't know Felicity's whole story, only the cliff notes version in which her father abandoned her and her mother, her college sweetheart betrayed her, and her mother died.

But Sara did see how those events changed the woman in front of her, how they only proved to make her stronger.

Felicity liked to talk, ramble actually, about any and everything with one firm exception – herself. Sara was often struck at little she knew about Felicity Smoak after a few months of living together.

In the beginning it was easy as they had Floyd as a buffer. He would make idle chit chat with both of them and ease the awkward tension that would fill the room after one of Felicity's rambles. But Floyd had jobs too, and one night he left for Rome, leaving the women to their own devices.

The Prague heist came up suddenly, and to avoid one of Floyd's tirades about leaving Felicity alone and going off alone, Sara took Felicity with her.

It wasn't until the night in Prague that the two women formed a friendship. Sara had been boxed in after a silent alarm was triggered on the piece she was stealing. Felicity had been able to hack into the system and divert the guards to another portion of the building while giving Sara enough time to get away.

Sara wouldn't say that the two were inseparable after that, they had their issues to work through of course, but they had formed a deeper understanding that night. A partnership.

Over time they did develop that friendship that only came after years of learning each other and working together.

"This is bad," Felicity's voice brought Sara back to reality.

Sara took a moment to look at the screen where Chien Na Wei was waiting patiently outside their front door. From all they knew of this woman, and the organization she worked for, the enforcer waited for no one.

"Maybe we should let her in." Sara offered, glancing at her friend.

Felicity let the tablet drop slightly as she turned to face Sara. "I'm sorry, what now?"

"Just hear me out." Sara mirrored Felicity. "Since when have we ever heard of Chien Na Wei ringing a _doorbell_? If she wanted to hurt us she would have done so already. The Triad isn't exactly known for their subtlety."

Felicity raised the tablet to glance at the image of the woman in question. _Sara did have a point_, Felicity thought to herself. While their security system was state of the art, their steel front door was hardly indestructible. She could have blown it to bits at any point in time.

"You'll keep your gun within reach at all times?" Felicity asked, not taking her eyes off the woman on camera.

Sara let out a chuckle. "Like you even have to ask."

It wasn't that they had a lot of dealings with the Chinese mob, or any mob for that matter. From day one they had a 'no organized crime' rule. A rule that coincided with their 'no violence rule.' Even before Felicity left her lucrative career as an IT expert she knew better than to piss off any mob related organization.

Vegas had been crawling with con-artists and crooks, mobsters and cheats, and Felicity grew up around all of them. Her mother worked hard to support them, and sometimes that meant Felicity sitting at the corner of a bar, doing her homework, while her mother finished her afternoon shift.

A young Felicity was curious – intrigued – at what these men and women were doing. She watched for years as people came and went, each with differing levels of skill. Some would count the cards at the table, while others lifted expensive bracelets and watches from those in passing.

She also watched the casino security team catch them all.

The strip's security was some of the toughest to crack, and therefore gave Felicity an excellent teacher. While she was watching the various thieves get booted from the casino, she also learned how to hack her way into the same casino's system, unnoticed. She had a bird's eye view of both teams' playbooks.

This knowledge came in handy as she pursued her degrees in Cyber Security and Computer Sciences, and made her a top candidate for job interviews.

But then Felicity's mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer only one year and six months after she began working for Schulman and Associates in New York City.

Four months after that Felicity was standing over her mother's gravesite wondering how her life had come to this point. How her mother, who worked harder than anyone she had ever met, was suddenly gone.

Two weeks later Felicity was taking her first step down the rabbit hole and waiting outside of an art museum in Venice, the night of a very important showing. It was the night she met Floyd Lawton after searching for him for so long.

Her life changed so quickly that sometimes, when she stopped to _really_ think about it, she would feel lightheaded.

Not once did she regret her choice to track down one of the most sought after jewel thieves, and rumored assassin, and become a thief herself.

Not when they made her stay in the van on jobs, or when Sara gave her a hard time about taking on a job by herself. Not even when she met Oliver Queen. To Felicity, in a warped way, she was doing _good_ in the world.

Sara did it for the rush, Floyd for the money, but Felicity did it to help others in the only way she could think of.

While Sara and Floyd conducted jobs on works of art or gemstones, Felicity would spend her evenings hacking into government and large corporation servers before exposing their misdeeds and taking a sizeable 'donation' for her favorite charity or non-profit organization.

This was the only way Felicity knew to right the wrongs done to her and her family.

"You can put the gun away," China White said with distaste as Felicity and Sara welcomed her into their living quarters.

"Let me guess," Felicity jumped in. "If you wanted to hurt us you would have done so already?"

The white haired woman simply scrunched her eyes in Felicity's direction before turning her attention to Sara.

"As I stated, I have a job for someone with your skill set." Sara glanced at Felicity as China White set her metal suitcase on the end table closest to her position. "It's extremely difficult and has not been attempted in the past, however I believe it to be highly lucrative and worthwhile for the thieves who complete the job."

"Why not just send in someone from your organization?" Sara asked, gun lowered to the floor. "I'm sure you have quite the pick of evil doers."

This time Chien Na Wei smiled at the women. It was almost a smirk of satisfaction, barely a whisper of a grin, as if she had a secret.

"I think that is obvious," she told them, producing two tubes of what looked to be rolled up blueprints from the case. "If my organization is found to be involved in this theft, if could be detrimental to our day to day operations."

"Day to day operations as in killing people." Felicity supplied, folding her arms over her chest.

Sara took a step towards Felicity, ready to defend, when Chien Na Wei only smiled. "You have quite the tongue on you, child."

Felicity's face shifted from hostile to downright predatory. Sara knew that Felicity had a tendency to ramble, and also seemed to lack the fear gene anytime something _extremely_ dangerous was presented to them. It amazed Sara that the tiny, blonde girl with the fighting skills of a novice would dare make a sarcastic comment at someone as dangerous as the woman in their living room.

Instead of letting Felicity put herself in harm's way further, Sara stepped forward with her arms crossed.

"So why us?"

"You're skilled and highly regarded." The statement was pushed at the women with confidence, and a sense of boredom. "You've been trained by one of the best in the business and live up to your reputation with each job you complete. My organization only hires the best, and you both are the best."

Felicity huffed while she rolled her eyes. "Imagine how nice that compliment would be if it didn't come from you."

"What my partner means to say," Sara spoke up, putting a hand on Felicity's arm to calm her. "Is that we respectfully decline."

To their surprise, the woman before them didn't even flinch. It was as if she was expecting it. "You haven't even heard the specifications, or what you'd be stealing."

"I don't see how that would change our minds." Sara told her.

"The thief who completes this job will be forever known," Chien Na Wei tried once more. "The team who stole from the Russian mob, right out from under their noses."

Felicity made a choking sound from behind while Sara attempted to keep a straight face. The Solntsevskaya Bratva were not the kind of people you wanted to make enemies with.

"Fame, and certain death, isn't really our angle." Felicity spoke up, once more mustering more strength and courage than Sara wanted.

Felicity had a large heart and was a truly selfless person. She was smart and capable of doing anything she set her mind to. Sara couldn't understand the excitement that Felicity held for sitting in front of a computer for hours and just type.

Sara also did not understand how Felicity's fears seemed to be heights, kangaroos, and anything with nuts, but not homicidal mob members. Normal people seemed to run away from dangerous situations, but Felicity had a tendency to find them.

Only two months prior they had been working a job to steal a painting when a guard jumped out with a gun aimed directly at Sara's head.

She thought she had disabled him, thought she kicked the gun out of his unconscious reach, but she was wrong. Seeing what was about to happen, Felicity stepped forward, screaming for Sara to '_Watch Out!_' before tackling her friend to the ground.

Sara knew she could have dodged the bullet. She knew that the man with the head wound was shaky at best – or at least that was what she had hoped. Felicity however, did not know that and ended up shot in the process.

After seeing Felicity bleeding on the floor, from a gunshot wound meant for her, Sara wished long and hard for a sense of fearfulness on her friend's part.

But Sara knew that a fearful Felicity wouldn't be the person she became friends with.

"Well how about money? You must have learned something from your predecessor, and if my memory serves me right, thirty million is quite a large score."

Sara closed her hand into a fist, praying that Felicity didn't take the bait.

"Once more," Felicity spoke up. "We respectfully decline."

Sara felt the relief from that statement flood through her body.

"Fair enough." Chien Na Wei shrugged once. "I'll be seeing you both."

Sara held her breath as the lead enforcer of the Chinese Triad, one of the most dangerous people that they had encountered, left their home.

"God I hope not," Felicity said with a sigh as the door closed.

* * *

Her eyes were the only physical thing that resembled the woman he met.

For hours now he had been staring at the picture of Felicity Smoak, from her college graduation, and wondering how he could have been so blind. The woman in the picture, though slightly intimidating with her dark eyeliner, smoky eyes, and nose piercing, still held an appearance of innocence. It was all in her eyes.

_How had he been so easily fooled by the woman before him?_

Oliver had never been the type of man who believed in love at first sight, or true love. He watched as his father and mother painted on an appearance of love for the ever waiting cameras of the press. He saw the apathy in his mother's eyes as she relayed to him and his sister the information of his father's dalliance with Oliver's now business partner. It was as if the topic was a mere embarrassment to the Queen name, rather than a breach of love and trust.

It wasn't to say his parents didn't care for one another, or love each other in their own way. Oliver just never saw it.

Oliver, himself, had a checkered past when it came to women. It would be easy for him to blame the influence of his parents' loveless marriage, but the truth was that Oliver hadn't loved Laurel, or Sara, McKenna, or Helena, or the countless other women he used and tossed aside.

Sure, Oliver cared about Laurel, but never enough to be the man she truly deserved. Never enough to say he was one hundred, percent in love with her.

It took him five years in purgatory to understand that. It was also one reason why he didn't pursue her when he returned home – well that and the fact that she was in a serious relationship with his best friend.

Oliver may not have believed in much, but he believed in a sense of _honor_, which Diggle would say was subjective. Oliver had chosen not to pursue Laurel, but still involved her in the Hood business.

Even so, Oliver pushed all the relationship stuff aside, minus the onetime, repeat, indiscretion with Helena Bertenelli who had definitely changed in his time away. He remaned focused on his mission. He dedicated his time to saving Starling City from the poison that was infecting it.

And he was doing a good job.

With the help of John Diggle he had stopped Malcolm Merlyn's undertaking from destroying the city and mended his relationship with Tommy. Tommy hadn't understood Oliver's mission at first. He hadn't understood the killing.

It took Tommy nearly dying in Malcolm's artificial earthquake for him to even begin to face reality. While Oliver _was_ helping Starling City, he was also hurting it. The lives that he was taking weren't solving the problem, not in reality.

Oliver watched as masked men kidnapped his sister, in his name, while vowing revenge against the rich and powerful of Starling City. He hadn't come home from his five years of hell to be an inspiration to people, and he sure as hell didn't come home to inspire people to kill innocents in their own misguided attempts at justice.

Tommy was the one who told him there was another way. He was the one who made Oliver see _it_.

"You still here?" Oliver looked up to see Tommy saunter down the metal steps from the club above. "I thought you'd have packed it up by now."

Oliver leaned back in his chair as Tommy walked across the concrete floor, a sheen of exhaustion written across his face. He knew that Tommy worked hard to keep the club running, and worked even harder to be the type of man that his father wasn't.

Trying to outlive a legacy like Malcolm Merlyn's was tiring.

"Just working on some paperwork," Oliver told his friend with a tight lipped smile.

When Tommy found out Oliver had been duped by a con-artist he couldn't stop laughing about it. The Arrow being duped by a beautiful, seductress was one cause for concern. Oliver Queen, on the other hand, was priceless. The days that followed included many more incidents of Tommy finding a casual way to drop it into the conversation.

The last thing Oliver wanted to do was let Tommy know he was still investigating Felicity Smoak. He didn't feel up to withstanding more of Tommy's ribbing, good natured or not.

Oliver knew that Tommy had known him long enough to know his friend's aversion to menial work. So when Oliver said he was doing '_paperwork_' Tommy cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Really?" Tommy asked. "You doing paperwork. I don't see it."

Oliver chuckled at Tommy's attempt at cajoling him into giving up his information as he took a seat beside him.

"I do paperwork at QC," Oliver told him, closing the manila folder and sliding it from Tommy's view. "I am the CEO."

Tommy winced at Oliver's title. "You sound so grown up and old when you say that. Oliver Queen, CEO."

"Tommy Merlyn, bar manager," Oliver shot back.

"That's Entrepreneur, I'll have you know." Tommy said with a wiggle of his eye brows in a playful manner. "I did more work here than you ever did, Buddy."

"That's not true," Oliver pointed out. "I ran the club when you took a vacation."

"One month of rehabilitation therapy does not equal a vacation or all the time it took meeting contractors, city officials, getting permits, coordinating with suppliers, and let's not talk about the DJs and performers." Tommy listed off.

Oliver laughed with Tommy as they let their conversation lag.

"I still can't believe you got a secret lair of arrows and arrow _grenades_ past me, in my own club," Tommy told him with a shake of his head as he looked around the basement.

"It's my club," Oliver specified.

"In name only, lover boy," Tommy teased as he eyed the folder on the table. "So, have you found any more information on the _elusive_ Miss Smoak?"

Oliver let out a small groan of frustration before running his hands over his face, as if that could wipe it all away. He should have known Tommy would have figured it out. Oliver didn't do a good job hiding his lies, anyway.

"Nothing that wasn't in her original file," Oliver told him.

Tommy reached to grab the folder before holding back, asking Oliver for permission with his glance, to which Oliver nodded in reply.

It was strange, to Oliver, how this one woman could have so much of a pull over him. They met once, and talked for maybe ten minutes, twenty if he was being generous. Yet there was something about her.

He had been home for two years and found a greater ease at opening up to her than any one of his family members or friends.

"What's this?" Tommy asked, breaking his train of thought.

"Hmm?" Oliver asked, looking over to where Tommy held the file.

"It says her mother died, about three years ago." Tommy looked at Oliver, an emotion that Oliver was only relatively familiar with. Before his humanity was all but stripped away on the island it had been easy to empathize, now it was easier to compartmentalize. The loss of a beloved parent showed vividly in Tommy's eyes.

Tommy kept reading before letting out a low whistle. "That also looks like it's when her crime spree started."

Oliver already knew that. Diggle mentioned it, and he read the file, inside and out, at least ten times since it was handed to him. The connection wasn't lost on him. He went through a traumatic experience and he became a vigilante. The loss of her mother must have been her catalyst. Why should her loss be any different from his?

Except that he couldn't stop thinking that it was.

"Her mother was a single mom," Oliver told him.

Tommy nodded approvingly before going back to the file in hand. "It must have been hard, raising a little felon all on her own."

Oliver shot his gaze to Tommy who was still flipping through the pages. He was taken aback at his friend's words, knowing full well the similarities between him and Felicity. Her mother died and she went off the grid, while he was marooned and tortured and began killing people after the death of his father. To look at them side by side he would say that they weren't that different.

Both suffered, both became criminals. Only Oliver came back from his island, and stopped killing, while Felicity was still stuck on hers.

"I don't think we should judge her so quickly," Oliver muttered out before rising to his feet. "Circumstances have a habit of changing people."

Tommy gawked at Oliver as he watched his friend rise from his seat and move to the salmon ladder.

"Well I don't think it's fair to compare yourself to her," Tommy told him, rising to his feet as well. "Yeah, you got dealt a shitty hand, but you came back stronger for it. This girl ran in the opposite direction and is hurting people."

Oliver turned away from Tommy, stretching his arms in preparation for his jump to grab the bar.

"I just don't think we should be so fast to judge."

"Oh please, you not judge someone Mr. You-Have-Failed-This-City." Tommy mimicked, rising from his seat as well. "Thea brought home the purse snatcher and you put an arrow in his leg."

Oliver groaned, never being allowed to forget the time he tried to stop Roy from getting involved in their line of work. The kid had a chance at a normal life. He didn't have to put himself, and more importantly Thea, at risk because he thought he had something to prove.

"He was getting in over his head and needed a wakeup call," Oliver defended his actions.

Tommy blinked slowly, trying to formulate a response. "She's a criminal. Plain and simple."

"And I murdered people," Oliver grunted out as he began to climb the ladder, doing his best to ignore Tommy. "It's not that _simple_."

"Whatever." His frustration could be heard clear through Tommy's voice. "But you know that if she hadn't sauntered up to you in that slinky red dress and batted her eye lashes at you, you would be busting down her door right now to put an arrow in her," Tommy said, raising his voice to be heard over the clanking bard. "And _not_ your downstairs arrow."

Oliver groaned before letting himself fall to the ground, landing with ease.

"You know what I mean," Tommy shook his head. "I'm saying that this woman is a criminal, and last I checked, the Arrow team motto was '_we put criminals behind bars._'"

Oliver rolled his eyes as he passed Tommy. "Don't say that."

"What? It's not '_hugs not drugs_' but I think it has real potential." Oliver watched as Tommy shrugged "Fine, I won't put it on any t-shirts anytime soon, but do you get what I'm saying?"

_Did he?_ Did Oliver understand the truth of what Tommy was telling him. For weeks he had been trying to put a distance between them. He had been attempting to put her out of his mind, or at least put her in a box that read 'criminal' on the side.

He didn't want to empathize with her. He didn't want to see the woman, who so clearly manipulated him, as a person. He couldn't see her as a person, the person who babbled on while gazing up at him with those deep, honest gaze. If he kept seeing her like the person she was that night, he wouldn't be able to do what was necessary when the time came.

"It doesn't matter what major life event changed her." Tommy voiced. "Yeah, it sucks, but so do a lot of things. My mother got shot in an alley and my father committed mass murder, but I still turned out normal."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Normal?"

Tommy let out a deep breath before letting the folder drop to the metal table, the graduation picture slipping out. "Don't say I didn't warn you when she crashes back into your life and ends up exploding all over your hard work."

But it didn't matter how hard he tried to put her in the box. The eyes staring up at him, _Felicity_ in a black robe with braided cords draped over her shoulders, were innocent.


	6. Family First

**AN: I don't know what to say to you all, except THANK YOU! You all are so amazing and fill me with such joy at knowing how much you all enjoy the story. I really love writing The Long Game and am so happy others are able to enjoy it as well! Thank you so much for your feedback, your kudos, and your constructive feedback!**

**This chapter introduces a character who I have been itching to put in since the beginning but hadn't found the right time. Roy's here! And just as a reminder, because of all the canon changes, there was no Mirakuru or battle with Slade. So Roy joined the team the old fashioned way, through dogged persistence. I promise the story will pick up from this point on. A lot of the background heavy moments are going to be spaced out in between the movement forward.**

**I hope you all enjoy this story and want to leave a little love on your way out!**

* * *

As the loud boom of thunder rolled through the city Oliver sprang up in bed. Some days he thought the memories had faded far enough into the recesses of his mind becoming long forgotten experiences he barely remembered. He wasn't as nervous anymore when he heard an explosion or a loud noise and his hands didn't twitch, and the sweat didn't break out on his skin.

Yet on nights like these, with thunder rolling through the loft, the anxiety was back accompanied by images of his tortured friends, his fight to survive, and the lives he took. The smell of gasoline and crackling wood still burned in his nose. He could still feel the dirt, rocks, and moss digging into his skin. Sometimes he believed he would never get the scent or the feel out.

During his time away he had been around his fair share of explosions and fires. He had caused a few too. The smell of the flame licking its way through the air – charring the flesh of those around him – was something ground firm in his memory. Never forgotten.

Oliver sat up, planting his feet firm on the wood paneled floor below. The coolness of the wood was a welcome relief in contrast to his sweat slicked skin. The heat from the explosion in his dreams – the missile hit, Fyers holding Shado with a gun pointed at her temple – was still fresh in his mind.

He took a few deep breaths to center himself before standing to his feet. When he reached for his grey t-shirt on his corner chair he could feel the muscles in his back ache, which was also another _enjoyable_ side effect to the rain.

As he opened his bedroom door a whiff of smoke caught his nose. He gripped the doorknob until his knuckles turned white before releasing it in a slow, gradual motion.

He found after his time on the island he was more susceptible to a traumatic flashback after a nightmare. These flashbacks became more intense as he continued to advance in his training. Each life he took and each bullet that pierced his skin would bring on more and more heart racing memories. John described it as PTSD, which Oliver already knew, and was common to those who had endured traumatic situations.

His only way to cope with these emotions, after he returned, was to go to the foundry and work out until he didn't have energy to dream. He would exhaust himself fighting the past that haunted him. Each arrow he sent hurtling into paper targets reminded him of each life he took. Each death he saw.

As he brought more people into his life, and his secret, the nightmares lessened. The bright, familiar atmosphere Tommy generated helped. Diggle's tips on dealing with PTSD helped. Even mentoring Roy helped. These all made it easier when there wasn't a dummy to hit or a salmon ladder to climb.

Oliver never thought that having a support system like Diggle and Tommy would help re-define him. He didn't expect to want to be better than the man who came back broken. He didn't think it was possible. The things he had done altered his perception of his whole self. Being a better man was not something Oliver could have imagined.

Oliver continued moving with soft feet down the stairs towards the smell. While he had been dreaming of it only moments earlier, he still knew when the smell was real. Real smoke in his, and his sister's, loft was bad. Especially at two in the morning. He knew if there was a fire he would have to act quick, but his gut told him there was no cause for alarm.

As he hit the bottom step Oliver he understood where the smell was coming from.

"Roy," Oliver sighed as he spotted his little sister's boyfriend. "Why are you half-naked and burning toast in my kitchen at two in the morning?"

Roy - the boy Oliver had disapproved of with a burning passion only a big brother could have - had actually turned out to be quite the protégé. The young man had crashed into Thea's life through a stolen purse and bad boy attitude. Not long after, he began stalking Oliver after the Hood saved the young man's life.

Tommy had teased that the Hood had his first real 'groupie' – only he was sleeping with Oliver's sister instead of him. Oliver had not found that particular joke amusing.

It didn't take Oliver long to realize that he had to take Roy under his tutelage or Roy could become seriously hurt. The kid was getting more and more involved in their nightly activities without training which made him their weak spot. Diggle thought Oliver was crazy for doing it. Oliver had a precarious handle on his own life, in Diggle's words. Taking on a a mentor role of sorts was a train wreck waiting to happen.

But the train wreck had yet to happen.

"Oh hey," Roy said as he threw up his hand in a sort of wave. Oliver watched on as Roy began to toss a slice of blackened toast between his hands. "Thea was hungry and you two are the worst at keeping food stocked in your apartment, so I was left with toast."

Oliver let out a soft groan before bringing a hand up to rub his temples. He never imagined living with his sister would include her boyfriend/his mentee in his kitchen at any hour of the day.

Not that Oliver didn't know Thea and Roy had sex. He just preferred to think of their relationship consisting of sitting on opposite sides of a room with their only contact being visual – and even that was innocent.

"I'm sorry, man." Roy told Oliver, still flipping the burnt toast in his hands. "It's kind of _weird_, you and Thea living together."

Oliver clenched his jaw and tried to remember the breathing techniques Diggle taught him. And that Roy was a friend.

"Yeah," Oliver said with a slow nod. "It's _weird_."

Roy paused as he looked at Oliver for the first time since he came into the kitchen. To Oliver's displeasure, Roy began to smirk at his mentor.

"You're mad." Roy guessed.

Oliver kept his lips firm together and only shook his head 'no.'

Roy began to chuckle as he turned his head down to spread butter on the toast. "It's kind of funny how you trust me to have your back with a bow and arrow, yet still get weirded out by me dating your sister."

"I'm not …" Oliver trailed off in frustration. "It doesn't... It's not awkward."

Roy raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Ok, so it bothers me to know that my little sister isn't … _little_, anymore." Oliver winced at his own words. "But I'm glad that you're the guy she's with."

Roy smiled in earnest this time as he stacked the toast atop each other, before wrapping them in a napkin. "Thanks, man."

"She could've done worse." Oliver ended with a smile.

Roy shook his head as Oliver's words sunk in. "You know we were having a nice moment and you just had to go and try to be funny."

Oliver laughed as Roy began to move past him. "I'll see you in the morning, boss."

* * *

Felicity had been an only child, to a single mother, growing up. While Donna Smoak supported Felicity with everything she had, and made the perfect best friend and mother, Felicity would sometimes long for a bigger family. A brother or sister to play with and talk to on the days when her mother was at work. Someone to walk to school with and then back home.

On the nights when she heard her mother crying through the paper thin walls of their one bedroom house, which never _really_ felt like home, she would even wish for a father.

She didn't want a father for the same reasons some of her peers, who were also raised in single parent households, did. She didn't want her father to come home and take her to baseball games or picnics in the park. Felicity didn't want him there for father-daughter day at school, where he would come in and speak to the class on how his work was saving the world.

At least that was what her mother told her once. Her father was a scientist who was doing research that could save the world.

That was what was more important than Felicity and Donna. _Research_.

So when she thought of a father, she never thought of her own. Donna was more mother _and_ father than her own father ever could have been.

No. She didn't want a father for her. Felicity wanted a husband for Donna. She wanted her mother to not have to cry herself to sleep at night worrying where the next paycheck would come from or which bills it would pay. Felicity didn't want her mother to have to walk through the casino floors in six inch heels and flirt with skeezy men to make tips enough to pay for groceries. She wanted her mother to not have to force a smile when things were bad, because she would have someone to help shoulder the weight.

Felicity wanted her mother to have a partner, someone to rely on when things got rough. Her mother worked hard and deserved that. She deserved to have someone take care of her for once, in a way that a teenage Felicity couldn't.

Donna was a giant ball of light and energy. She never complained about the hurtles she had to leap in order to take care of a genius child, or the looks she received at PTA meetings. Donna took it with a smile and a joke. Sometimes her smiles were more forced than normal, but she did her best to remain positive.

Felicity often times assumed her mother loved it being just the two of them. Best friends, mother and daughter. Sometimes Felicity was the caregiver in their relationship, and sometimes it was Donna.

Their relationship wasn't all sunshine and hair braiding, though. Donna had a childish enthusiasm to her that Felicity made up for in pragmatism. Where Donna smiled and laughed her way through every curve in the road (forced or not), Felicity tried to find a logical solution.

When the doctor told her that the surgery didn't work, and the hospital billing department told her that the mediocre insurance coverage Donna had, only covered a three night stay in the hospital, Felicity took up the role of her mother's partner.

Felicity did what Felicity did best – she took care of her mother.

Felicity requested family sick leave from work, but was then denied her request to have her mother placed on her insurance. Felicity had better insurance that would have covered the medical expenses which could have saved her life. To a twenty-three year old woman who was too young to lose the only family she had, it was a huge situation. One she shouldn't have had to face alone.

Growing up she had heard stories about the citizens below the poverty line and the care they received, but never believed it until it happened. Sure the hospital tried to help Donna, but tests and treatments worth thousands of dollars weren't going to pay for themselves.

Watching her mother fade slowly before her eyes was devastating. To see the ever vibrant Donna Smoak wither away to skin and bones, literally, tore at Felicity's heart. To Felicity each day her mother opened her eyes was a victory. Each breath deserved a happy dance. While her mother took naps in the old La-Z-Boy recliner, she found one day at a thrift shop when Felicity was twelve, Felicity called the insurance company begging for help.

Felicity compiled list after list of items that needed to get done, people she needed to call, and bills still needing to be paid. Donna would watch Felicity run from task to task with the sole focus on taking care of her mother.

She contemplated hacking into the insurance company's server and fudging the numbers, but her mother stopped her. She would tell her that it didn't matter, and that Felicity was doing all she could. Felicity was doing more than enough to help her. _Other people needed that money more_, Donna would say in a slurred voice as she drifted off to sleep.

Donna would sit and stare at her daughter, holding her hand in her own or running her fingers through Felicity's hair, a smile gracing her features. _I have all I need_, she would say.

As things got worse, Donna would beg her not to leave her, to stay with her like her husband hadn't. Felicity was so much like him, she would murmur through her weakened haze.

She always knew that Felicity would leave one day, Donna would whisper as Felicity dabbed a moistened towel to her mother's brow and a cool sponge to her lips. Felicity begged her mother to stay, to _fight_. She knew that if she only had a little more time she could fix this.

What was the use of having all this intelligence if she couldn't _help_ her mother?

The night that Floyd Lawton found her, Felicity had been at her own rock bottom. She didn't doubt that if Floyd hadn't stumbled upon her that night, alone and drunk in a dive bar outside of the Vegas strip, she may have gone back to New York to resume her job. She would have continued to climb the ladder of success and eventually take over some high profile company, or even start her own.

If Floyd hadn't been there, her whole life would have been different.

But he was. As she sat, mere hours after her mother's funeral, sipping on a gin and tonic, her mother's _second_ favorite drink, he saw her. Felicity couldn't remember most of that night between the blur of planning and attending her own mother's funeral. It all melded together into finding the nearest bar she could as quick as she could

But she remembered all of their conversation.

She remembered the way he sat next to her, and asked if she was ok. She remembered the way she broke down in tears and told him what had happened, probably sharing too much information with a total stranger. Her emotions got the better of her and she continued to pour it out.

He didn't say much, just sat quietly.

Felicity was thankful that night, for the stranger who let her get all her frustrations out. A man who probably thought she was crazy when she finished. It wasn't until around two in the morning when she found herself dragging through the doorway of her mother's house, mascara smudged from crying and hair pulled back into a low ponytail, that she found the card.

While looking through her purse for her house keys she saw a small plain, white business card with the words 'Deadshot' and 'I'm sorry for your loss.'

She flipped the card around in her fingers, trying to determine if this was some sort of _tracker trap_. If some strange man she unloaded all her problems onto had followed her home by use of his business card and was maybe going to jump out of the closet at any second. She had a vivid imagination and a high-scoring IQ. It was possible.

In hindsight, she knew that was unlikely because if he intended to 'jump her' why not just do it at the bar?

She tossed the card on the counter top before moving to the small, beaten up sofa – the one she occupied during her sleepless nights when she was too afraid to close her eyes in case her mother stopped breathing. With a deep breath she closed her eyes, knowing full well that tomorrow would be even worse.

"Why are you still awake?" Sara's voice sounded from the cot five feet over. After their unsettling visit, both Sara and Felicity thought it better to relocate to a smaller safe house fifty miles north and move their cots into one room. "Have you gotten any sleep tonight?"

Felicity shook her head in a controlled manner before shifting her gaze back to the computers in front of her. She had to find out what Chien Na Wei and the Triad wanted them for.

"Did you at least find anything?" She heard Sara begin to move from the cot, stretching her muscles like a cat before standing tall.

Felicity always thought of Sara as some Amazonian warrior, tall and tough, capable of handling anything. Their first meeting was fraught with intimidation and anxiety for Felicity. The woman in front of her seemed adept at the world Felicity was begging entrance to. She was smart and beautiful while moving gracefully around the training mats. Felicity remembered thinking of Sara as a force – solid and strong.

It was the quiet moments, when they were alone and talking about their families when Sara seemed her actual height.

Felicity shook her head in response before leaning back in her chair. "The only thing I could even get close to was that the Bratva are planning some sort of celebration for their high ranking officers in little over a month from now."

"That's probably when Chien wanted us to steal the piece, big and flashy," Sara voiced from over Felicity's shoulder. "But what would the Bratva have that the Triad would want?"

"Besides power and a path to world domination?" Felicity asked with a snort. "No matter what they want us to steal, that's what this whole operation would become. It's a power play."

"Then why not have their own men on the inside?" Sara mused. "If they want the Bratva to know it's them stealing their money, why us?"

"Because if we fail, the Triad doesn't really lose their own assets." Felicity shrugged. "It makes sense. Plus I don't think they actually want the Bratva to know it's them until the job is done."

Felicity ran a hand over her face, moving her glasses to sit on the desk beside her. "The whole thing is destined to blow up in our faces."

"If we took the job." Sara finished. "We told her no, end of story."

Felicity turned in her chair to meet Sara's eyes. "You know as well as I do that no one says 'no' to the Triad."

It was true. The very thought of Chien Na Wei entering their safe house with no escort, no muscle or grenades, to back her up was ludicrous. Felicity almost couldn't believe it had happened. The idea she let the two of them live after telling her no was another unbelievable event.

Sara took in a deep breath before looking back at the screen Felicity had been staring at. "Wait, what's that?"

Felicity turned to look at what Sara pointed at. "What?"

She had least ten different web pages loaded both of the monitors along with the highly sophisticated search engine she created. Saying 'what's that?' was like a version of a bad guessing game.

"All the artifacts on the screen?"

One of Felicity's first searches had been to hack into high profile, equally duplicitous, insurance companies that only served the rich and evil. If Bratva Inc. did insure their valuables, this would be one of the first places to look.

"I'm trying to see what the Bratva members have claimed that would be worth the same value as what Chien said earlier. So far I have a diamond necklace, a Faberge egg, and a Victor Borisov-Musatov painting." Felicity brought a hand up to rub her face, exhaustion beginning to set in. "It's a long shot, but it might at least point us in the right direction."

"What about the egg?" Sara asked, pointing at the embellished egg. "Besides a Russian painting, that would be something of value to the Bratva, if we're being stereotypical. It would send a message, and be easier to transport."

Felicity nodded as she began to click her way through the screens, all flying past Sara's view in rapid succession. "Well, the egg is 'owned' by one Anatoli Knyazev. He's a high ranking Bratva official – He's pretty much their leader."

"Stealing something from him would definitely make a statement." Sara supplied as Felicity's cell phone began vibrating.

Sara looked down at the screen anticipating Floyd's name to be displayed. Only Floyd and Sara had the number, and neither could figure out how to hack their way through to the GPS. One of the many perks of having Felicity on their side were highly un-hackable cell phones.

However instead of Floyd's name on the screen it was lit with the name 'Super Bitch.' Only a handful of people received that colorful nickname from Felicity, and none of which were ever given her cell phone number.

Sara picked it up and pushed it towards Felicity while the air was sucked out of her lungs. Felicity was not a stupid person, and yet she had programed one of the most feared assassins' phone numbers into her phone. "Can I ask why Chien Na Wei is calling you?"

Felicity pursed her lips together, having been caught. Sara watched as Felicity's face morphed into one of thought, probably in order to find a way out of the real answer, but quickly changed to one of puppy-dog eyes.

"I may have bugged her."

"_May_ have?" Sara asked, her voice raising with the swell of anxiety. "You weren't even near her, how did you bug her?"

"You know how I've been working on developing this variation of nanite technology that is virtually untraceable and can be applied through a myriad of – you don't care about the details." Sara shook her head in response, fighting the urge to hit something. "Yeah why would you, it's still in development, but I promise when it is officially up and running-"

"Felicity, rambling," Sara halted her, one hand on her hip. "_Focus_."

"Right, so I tagged her with one of the prototypes, _indirectly_." Felicity sounded so proud of herself. "I layered a few on the doorbell, for you know,_precaution_, and I've been able to track her since she left."

Sara took in a deep breath, counting to ten and back down to one in her head. "So why is she calling?"

"Probably because she figured it out." Felicity winced. "It's still new and prone to glitches."

"_Glitches_?" Sara screeched.

"Well, once I access her technology via an off shore satellite she would be able to piggy back off of my signal if she knew that I were watching and had that satellites exact coordinates." Felicity paused, trying to gauge Sara's mood from her expression. "Which apparently she did, so yeah."

"We're going to have to have a conversation about you going rogue without telling me," Sara stated in a low voice. "But first we should answer the phone before she blows the warehouse up."

Felicity groaned, knowing that the conversation with Sara was not set to be a good one. Especially after Sara found out that Felicity tested the nannites on her first.

Pressing the 'speaker' button, Felicity took a deep breath, readying her voice for the person on the other end. _No fear_, that's what Lawton always said.

"Hello?" Felicity heard the overly confident tone she put on, hoping the tremor in her voice was not audible.

"Miss Smoak, I do not appreciate being traced," the woman's voice on the other end was pissed, for lack of a better term.

"You know, I have a really bad habit, it's a sickness really," Felicity winced, looking at Sara for encouragement before recognition dawned on her. "Wait, you know my last name-"

"Enough," Felicity jumped in her seat, Sara's hand on her shoulder to steady her.

_How was Sara so calm?_

"Miss Smoak," Chien's voice leveled out. "Your skill with technology is certainly a gift, one that shouldn't be sheltered behind petty theft and two-bit conns."

Felicity opened her mouth to object, they had just stolen 1.2 million dollars' worth of jewelry, how was that _petty_? But Sara's tight squeeze on her shoulder stopped her.

"I would once more like to extend my offer of this job." While the words were pleasant enough, Chien's tone suggested it was anything but an offer this time. "You and Miss Lance would be revered in your community, and become an absolute force to be reckoned with."

"Thank you, _again_, for the offer," Sara voiced. "But we seriously have to decline."

"I was afraid you would say that," Chien's voice was only minimally reluctant. "Which is why I thought of a backup."

Felicity felt her eyes bulge as she glanced towards Sara, who looked equally unnerved.

"I believe you two have a mutual mentor, Floyd Lawton," Sara unknowingly squeezed Felicity's should a little bit tighter. "He is a wonderful teacher, is he not? It would be a shame to have to waste such a wonderful criminal element."

"What do you mean?" Felicity stuttered out.

"Check your inbox Miss Smoak," Felicity leaned forward to swipe through the open dialogue boxes as instructed.

Waiting for her was a picture of Floyd, tied to a chair and unconscious, with blood marking rivulets down his face. There was a large wound on his forehead which could be seen as the source of the bleeding.

"Now, we should talk about specifics of this job, as the stakes just got a little bit _higher_."


	7. Добро пожаловать в Россию

**AN: Thank you everyone for your feedback so far! This is the last Olicity-less chapter! Which also means it's a bit longer than the others so we could get some details out of the way. I'm going to be trying to lengthen the chapters to keep the story flowing, which means that I will be changing my updating schedule.**

**Also, this chapter introduces the Bratva into the mix. I don't have a lot of experience writing Bratva!Oliver, so I'm very sorry in advance for any mistakes I've made. I've tried to do my research but I admit it wasn't as thorough as I would have liked. I also used Google Translate for the Russian dialogue, so if you see a mistake please do not hesitate to let me know.**

**Constructive feedback is always welcome!**

**The title of this chapter is translated to : Welcome to Russia**

* * *

**_5 Weeks Later_**

Tommy looked over to where Roy was sparring with Oliver, both men performing an eloquent duel with sticks. Tommy tried to understand the new Oliver, and made it a point to support him, but sometimes he just didn't understand his friend. Or his methods of training.

It had been too easy for Tommy to try and pick right up where they left off. In those five years Tommy had made a concentrated effort to continue to change his life and become a more dependable person, for Laurel.

In the beginning he felt himself losing grip, unsure of how to 'be' without Oliver Queen as his best friend, confidant, and wing man. He felt himself cracking around the edges and even went to Hong Kong on some fool's errand trip which ended up with him getting sort of kidnapped by, well, Oliver.

When he returned, he tried all the harder to pull himself together. He made an effort to be there for Thea, when she wasn't pushing him away. He made dates and plans with Laurel, and he fell in love with Laurel. By the time Oliver came home, he and Laurel had become a couple who loved each other.

Tommy struggled at first, when Oliver came home. It wasn't every day that your best friend returns from the dead and you have to tell him that you've fallen in love with his girlfriend.

But to Tommy's surprise, Oliver didn't care. He slapped Tommy on the back and said congratulations. This new Oliver was calmer, Tommy noted one night as he and Laurel lay curled up on the couch. He was different.

Laurel told him that that was a good thing, because Tommy was different too. Tommy had grown in the past five years and wasn't the same man Oliver left. Their friendship would be able to survive this change, she encouraged, because Tommy could see the pain that Oliver was in. Tommy would be able to support Oliver in a way he wouldn't have been able to five years earlier.

"Why do they fight with sticks?" Tommy asked Diggle over his shoulder.

Diggle had been trying to work on the computers in hopes of gaining some sort of lead on their recent bad guy. Tommy wondered how both men had been able to keep the city safe for as long as they had without tech support. They were clearly struggling now.

"They're called escrima sticks," Diggle huffed as he focused in on the screen in front of him. "Same goes for the style of fighting."

"Sounds like bad Chinese." Tommy laughed, but stopped as he saw the unamused look he received from Diggle. "Sorry. So how's the computer?"

"Frustrating," Diggle said as he slapped a hand over his head. "Every time I try to type something in, I keep getting locked out."

Tommy nodded in understanding. He had been dealing with the same issue for about three weeks and knew exactly what it meant to be Team Arrow's tech support. It meant a lot of headaches and unanswered questions.

"Did Lyla's instructions help at all?" Tommy asked, gesturing to the piece of paper next to the monitor.

Another irritated sigh came from Diggle as he leaned back in his chair to stretch his back. "Somewhat."

Tommy was also learning that Dig didn't liked being asked questions while he was working. He glanced back to where Oliver grunted on the mats with Roy.

_How were they still going at it?_

"Do you think we should ask Oliver's hacker-thief girlfriend for help when we catch her?" Tommy whispered low enough for only Dig to hear. Diggle only responded by moving to glance at where Oliver worked. "I mean she went to MIT, right? That's gotta mean she knows about computers."

"How do you know she went to MIT?" Diggle asked, keeping his voice low.

Tommy shrugged and sat back in his chair. "Oliver showed me her file. A.R.G.U.S. does a really good job with the pictures, really good pixilation."

Diggle stared back at Tommy with a blank expression.

"Oh, yeah, I accidentally picked up the wrong book when you guys asked me to work on the computers. Read about Photography instead." Tommy winced before looking back at the blank screen. "But hey, if you ever need family portraits, I'm your guy … but not really because I only read one chapter and the only thing I got from it was the word pixilation."

Diggle let out a laugh causing Oliver and Roy to pause as their sticks hit.

"Why don't you two come take a break?" Tommy asked while waving them over

"Did you bring us orange slices like last time, Mom?" Roy yelled over his shoulder in gest.

Oliver took advantage of Roy's distraction and used his stick to knock out the back of Roy's knees, causing him to crumple to the ground with a groan.

"Never let your surroundings distract you," Oliver said with a smile as he held out his hand for Roy to take.

"I'll remember that." Roy grunted as Oliver helped him up. "Seriously though, did you bring orange slices?"

Tommy and Diggle both exchanged a glance before Tommy rolled his eyes at the younger man. "Do I look like your soccer mom?" Tommy asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Any luck on the computer?" Oliver interrupted, looking at Diggle who shook his head in response.

"Why are the computers such a big deal now?" Roy asked, stopping to take a large gulp from his water bottle. "I mean, you've been doing this for what? Two years?"

"When Lyla gave us the new system, she mentioned all these kinds of searches we could run to make the system more efficient." Diggle told them as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "It would be able to monitor traffic patterns during a mission and cross reference criminal cases both opened and closed."

"We didn't realize that by accepting these new computers we wouldn't even be able to get into them." Oliver shrugged, taking a swig of his own water. "And that we would need someone to operate them."

Roy hid a chuckle while Tommy just looked on at both Diggle and Oliver in amazement. "Besides, we've only been patrolling the streets, not looking for another Undertaking."

"Still, maybe next time you buy something, do a little research first." Tommy laughed as Oliver began to grumble under his breath.

The computers had been a gift from Lyla after she made an impromptu visit to the foundry. One of Oliver and Diggle's patrols cross paths with Lyla's mission for A.R.G.U.S. which ended in a bloody shoot out at the old Merlyn Global research labs. Lyla had been badly injured and separated from her own team.

John and Oliver brought her back to the lair for a quick fix and to be monitored. The bullet wound was through and through, luckily, and didn't hit any major artery. Oliver had watched as John stitched up his own wife, worry written along his brows and in his eyes.

Afterwards, Lyla took stock of their operation before offering the old computers A.R.G.U.S. had lying around, ready for disposal. She assured them that no one would be looking for computers, and they had been wiped of any A.R.G.U.S. activity, making them obsolete to the organization.

"Ah-ha!" Diggle exclaimed while slamming his hand down on the table, causing all three men to turn and look. "Got it."

"Great," Oliver said as he moved around the table to view the screen. There it was, the entire closed circuit network for Starling City set out before them. "How'd you do it?"

John looked back at Oliver before glancing between Roy and Tommy. "I just followed the instructions."

Tommy guffawed before clapping Diggle on the back. "You my friend are now our tech support."

Roy joined in the laughter before catching the concerned frown on Oliver's face. "Boss, what is it?"

"That man," Oliver said, staring at the screen. "I know him."

Roy leaned closer to take a look at the man Oliver was examining. There was nothing out of the ordinary for a man in a suit to be standing in the middle of the plaza on 3rd Street.

"The guy who keeps catching a glare in his watch?" Roy asked, confusion etching his brows.

Diggle focused in on the man in question as well. The way he was twisting his wrist, along with the repetition of the glare didn't seem as though it were casual. This man, whoever he was, was doing it on purpose. He was sending a message.

"'Call home,'" Oliver murmured to himself, catching glances from Tommy and Roy. "It's Morse code."

Diggle caught the last letter and nodded in affirmation. The man was spelling out 'call home' using the sun's glare off his watch, but why?

"You said he looked familiar?" Diggle turned, sitting a little straighter in his chair.

"Should I call Thea?" Roy asked, alert at the possible connection. Oliver shook his head to indicate the message did not mean the loft. Thea was safe, of that Oliver was sure.

Oliver placed his hand beneath his chin, wracking his mind to determine where he had seen that man. It couldn't have been recently, Oliver would have remembered him. But he was so familiar.

"Wait, what's that on his wrist?" Tommy asked, leaning forward in his chair. "Under his watch, look."

All four men looked at the man's wrist, each trying to see what Tommy saw. "There!" Roy pointed out.

"It's a tattoo," Diggle noted. "I don't know how to zoom on this thing."

"It's Bratva." Oliver stood straighter in his spot. "I met him when I was in Moscow."

"Rescuing Lyla?" Tommy inserted.

"No," Oliver paused. "The other time."

"What are we looking at, Oliver?" Diggle asked, looking to Oliver in question. "Who is this guy?"

"When I met him he was a _shestyorka_, or an errand boy." Oliver leaned back against one of the metal tables as he spoke. "But I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's not his job anymore."

"Why do you say that?" Diggle asked, examining the screen one more time to see if there was something he had missed.

"He was looking to move up the ranks prior to me leaving Moscow." Oliver shrugged. "Besides, he worked with Anatoli, and he wouldn't have just sent an errand boy to get me a message."

"You think Anatoli is trying to get in contact?"

"Well 'call home' isn't exactly supposed to mean 'call mom.'" Oliver told them. "For the Bratva, Russia _is_ home."

Oliver examined the screen to see if there was a pay phone nearby they could trace, which there was. Now to figure out what number would get them in contact with his former associate.

"Dig, can you run a trace and find out the number of that payphone?" Oliver asked as he moved for his cell phone.

"Yeah, Dig, how bout you hit some more buttons?" Tommy goaded with a twinkle in his eye.

Oliver didn't have to look to know that Diggle was sending a glare Tommy's way.

"Fine, how about you just tell me what intersection he's at?" Oliver tried as he moved towards his gym bag. If he was going out to meet a member of the Bratva, he couldn't do so in gym sweats.

* * *

Oliver tugged on his blue, silk tie as he approached the plaza where Yakov had been standing only twenty minutes earlier. It was pure happenstance that they had been able to get the surveillance to work at the exact moment his former associate had been placing a signal for him.

He wondered how much trouble Anatoli must have been in to send the younger man to Starling City, instead of trusting the local Bratva officials to pass along the message. Anatoli prided himself on loyalty and confidentiality. If the message was truly important, he would have to be sure the messenger could be trusted.

Which meant the local Bratva were not trusted.

"It looks like rain." A thick Russian accent caused him pause by one of the stone benches. Yakov sat comfortably, staring at the sky above – the cloudless sky. "Do you happen to have an umbrella?"

Oliver looked at the man in front of him, who looked similar yet so different from the young man he had once known. Yakov used to be a scrawny boy who was so eager to help in whatever way he could. There was always a sense of enthusiasm in his eyes, an excitement that was almost contagious.

The man before him looked almost terrifying. He had filled out with pure muscle and had gained a few new tattoos and scars on his cheek. The bright eyes that always begged for more now looked dim with too many experiences he could never un-see.

Oliver wondered if the Bratva was all that this young man had dreamed it would be.

"Unfortunately, I left it in the car," Oliver responded. It had been a while since he had to use code. "But I think there's a shop around the corner with strong coffee. It's the perfect place to wait out a storm."

Yakov's lips curled into a smile, a twinkle reaching his eye as he stood from his spot. "Спасибо за вашу доброту"

Oliver nodded in return before continuing to the large structure in front of him, Yakov heading in the opposite direction. He was vaguely aware of Roy's voice in his ear asking what it all meant as he rounded the corner to stop short in a dead end alley way.

The structures surrounding him meant for limited chances of being caught on surveillance with a low chance of anyone overhearing their conversation.

"Я волновался вы не помните код," Yakov spoke from behind him, shadowed by a large, green dumpster. "Анатолий сказал, что вы. Он имеет веру в вас."

"He must have faith in you, to send you all the way here." Oliver stated. "Вам больше не будете мальчиком на побегушках."

Yakov stepped out of the shadow to face Oliver, Cheshire grin in place. "Тем не менее, я все еще на побегушках."

Oliver stood a little straighter as Yakov pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "We have received word that another organization is targeting Bratva members."

"That would be a terrible, and stupid, move," Oliver noted. "Do you know who is behind it?"

Yakov shook his head in response before handing over the paper to Oliver. "We received this transmission three weeks ago, but we were unable to trace the exact origin."

Oliver unfolded the paper and noted 'Они приходят.'

"'_They are coming_'?" Oliver read aloud. "Who's coming?"

"We don't know." Yakov looked to the ground in disgust. "We only know the transmission came from here."

"Starling?" Oliver asked before taking a deep breath. Starling could mean any number of organized crime operations. Any one of them would want to rub out the Bratva. "How do you know this is a hit?"

"Our sources have heard whispers of plans to overtake the Bratva. Until now we have only had whispers."

"But this," Oliver said while holding up the paper. "Is a direct threat."

Oliver knew how the organization worked, how even the slightest rumor of a threat was taken seriously. He experienced how they all operated first hand. Anatoli trained him to be vigilant, to never let his focus waver. 'Есть волки в лесу' he would tell him. 'Они съест тебя, если бы предоставилась возможность'

"What does Anatoli need from me?" Oliver asked, handing the paper back to Yakov as he spoke.

"He needs you close, брат." Oliver knew that was what Anatoli would want, he knew that was how the brotherhood worked.

If Anatoli needed him, he would go.

* * *

"Lyla narrowed down the footage from nearby airports around the time the transmission was sent," Diggle yelled over his shoulder as the heavy steel door clanged shut.

Tommy looked up from where he stood over the medical table, counting supplies. When matters like these, missions and jobs, arose in the foundry, Tommy did his best to stay out of the way. He knew where his strengths were, and they weren't there … yet.

"Where's Roy?" Oliver asked, making eye contact with Tommy.

"I sent him to do a sweep of the neighborhood," Tommy shrugged. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to make sure this wasn't a trap of some kind."

Oliver nodded in agreement before moving over to Diggle.

To Tommy, to see this side of Oliver was always disconcerting. Some days the patrols were easy, Oliver was Oliver – not the Arrow or the Hood or a Bratva Captain – he was his childhood friend.

When Tommy signed on he knew there would be parts of Oliver's new life he had yet to learn. There would be days when Oliver began to curse in Russian or flew off a rooftop only to land on the next unscathed.

As much as Tommy tried, he never felt prepared for it.

"How does Lyla keep feeding us intel?" Tommy asked as he cleared his throat. "Doesn't she get in trouble with her supervisor?"

Oliver and Diggle exchanged a glance. "She would." Diggle asserted. "But my wife is very good."

"And can't say no to you when you add 'sweetie' to the ends of your sentences."

Oliver smirked at Tommy, putting him a little more at ease.

"There," Diggle announced. "Look at the monitor, right under the clock."

Oliver leaned closer to see what Diggle was pointing at. Tommy took a couple steps forward but remained behind.

Oliver whispered low. "Damn it."

"Who is it?" Tommy asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Oliver couldn't take his eyes off the screen. The partially obscured image of Felicity Smoak rang out clear as day. Felicity must have been trying to avoid the security camera but wasn't fast enough. She was wearing glasses and her hair was darker with the sides pulled back, a wig he assumed, but he would be able to see her anywhere.

There was a woman next to her, but he couldn't see her face. The Rockets cap on her head kept her face out of sight, her partner he assumed. Based on their research he guessed she was the Canary.

Maybe Felicity should have used the cap.

Diggle raised his head to look at Tommy. He knew from the older man's expression that whoever was on that monitor, wouldn't be good. "It's Felicity. She's with someone else, must be her partner."

Tommy felt his mouth drop open slightly.

"She's wearing glasses and her hair is different, but it's her." Diggle sat back in his chair, eyes now on Oliver. "You ok, man?"

Oliver closed his eyes and tried to swallow over the lump forming in his throat, but found his mouth completely dry.

"Maybe it's a coincidence." Tommy tried. "Maybe it's a fun weekend getaway to spend her one point two million dollar earnings."

As much as Oliver wished that were true, he knew in his gut that this was proof of the Oracle's involvement. There was no such thing as coincidence in their world.

"What do you want to do?" Diggle asked, arms crossed over his chest, almost as if he already knew what Oliver wanted to do.

Felicity, his Felicity, was about to commit suicide and attack one of the most dangerous criminal organizations. There was no choice for him to make.

"Looks like we are going to Russia to catch a Canary and the Oracle." And hopefully keep her from getting herself killed.

* * *

The click, click of the keyboard keys was the only noise that permeated the hotel living room. Using their substantial savings from previous jobs, Felicity and Sara secured the penthouse suite of a lux hotel under their aliases.

Sara had used 'Rebekah Moreau' while Felicity had hesitated before settling on 'Kate Ellis.'

She planned to use Meghan Carmichael, but for some reason paused when asked her name.

She loved being Meghan. Meghan had a good time and met interesting people who seemed to fall under her spell. They would talk and laugh, and she actually felt a small amount of confidence form in the back of her mind.

Maybe it was because when she was Meghan, it was the closest she felt to being Felicity.

Felicity was smart, capable, a bit quirky and funny, with a terrible fear of kangaroos. Meghan was smart, capable, confident, and beautiful. To Felicity, it was the closest she came to herself on a job.

When she signed on with Floyd and Sara her only fear had been that she would lose herself with so many names and faces. They all had too many different identities which all blurred into varying shades of confusion. It left her wondering who Felicity Smoak would be when her life of crime was all said and done. How could she do this job without losing herself in the process?

Sara was a natural. A true chameleon when it came to taking on a new identity. Sara's personality would flow effortlessly from one end of the spectrum to the other with grace and assuredness. One minute she would be Sara Lance, and the next she would be Holly Green, before alternating back to Sara – never afraid of becoming Holly.

Her friend once told her, it was because each alias had a part of Sara in her. Each new personality was her – Rebekah was bubbly like her teenage-self had been, Katie was badass and rocked a killer leather jacket as Sara had in New York, and Chloe' was all poise and confidence, slightly sassy, and could be well defined as a vixen.

They were all different, but they were all Sara. "That was the trick," she said in between right hooks and jabs to the punching bag of their Venice safe house.

But Felicity never felt that way about her aliases. No matter how hard she tried to put pieces of herself into the roles she played, none of them felt like her.

She had only used Meghan three times, all of which being memorable in their own right, but it was the third that caused her pause. It was the moment she met Oliver Queen.

If there was ever a moment to not be Felicity, and to be Meghan, it was then. But the more they spoke, the more Felicity came to the surface.

She knew of Oliver Queen before she met him. Of course she did, she was a Vegas kid, and every Vegas kid who had a Vegas mom or dad, knew about Oliver Queen. Her mom's friend Sue rode an elevator with him once in Caesar's Palace. It was all her mom and Sue could talk about for weeks.

Felicity never saw the draw. Sure he was cute, but probably wouldn't be long term boyfriend material.

Before Cooper, and MIT, that was what she wanted – boyfriend material. She wanted stable and dependable, not reckless and haphazard. She watched her mother struggle for stability for a long time, and to Felicity, that was what her future partner would be. A partner.

After Cooper, and the methods he used to play on her heartstrings, she just wanted to escape the romance and find casual.

But then her mom got sick, and casual took a back seat.

Sara told her once that she 'shared' Oliver Queen with her sister Laurel for a couple months. Her face must have visibly paled as Sara began laughing hard enough to tears to leak down her cheeks. Sara told the story of an on-again-off-again Laurel and Ollie who spent more time off than on.

After the laughter died down, she didn't seem proud, or victorious to have bedded the infamous Oliver Queen. She seemed sad.

Felicity decided to never open that box, and never judged Sara for her actions. Sara wasn't the same person from then. She had grown into herself when she ran away from home. She became stronger, more confident, and a force to be reckoned with.

The Sara she was now, would never willingly hurt another woman, or man.

And from what Felicity gathered at that gala, Oliver was different too. Sara had warned her going in that five years on a deserted island would change anyone. The same Oliver who would wink an eye at her the second he and Laurel called it quits was not the same one she would be seeing.

She was right.

This Oliver was … indescribable. Sure there was the obvious physical allure of his chiseled jaw, well defined arms and torso, the vivid blue of his eyes, and she would never forget those hands. Yet it wasn't any of those features that made him so luminescent to her.

It was the way one glance at him felt like coming home after a long day. He was the feeling of curling up in flannel pajamas on a cold winter's night, in front of a fire, with a mug of hot cocoa, and a fleece blanket.

When he spoke to her, he was speaking to her, Felicity, who responded. He broke through her façade without even trying or knowing. Just one look was all it took for Felicity to know.

"What are you typing at four in the morning?" Sara groaned from the doorway to her room. "Do you never sleep?"

Felicity paused her typing, realizing that her coding had become the epitome of x's and o's, before shutting the program down. She could start again later.

"Sorry." Felicity shook herself free of her thoughts. "I guess I let the night get away from me."

Sara seemed to watch her with an appraising eye, skeptical of the real reason why Felicity was up so late. Softly, Sara padded across the floor before leaning against the arm of the pink, plush chair. The room was a tasteful set of pinks and red with gold sprinkled on more of the obvious surfaces.

"You're lying," Sara folded her arms across her chest, keeping the judgment out of her voice.

Sara had known Felicity long enough now to know her friend had a set of skeletons that remained hidden. Sometimes those skeletons kept her up at night, but Sara never would have guessed that one skeleton would be Oliver Queen.

Felicity closed her eyes before bringing a hand to her forehead. "I'm just, thinking."

Sara gave Felicity a knowing look. "Thinking as in, about the job?"

Felicity looked down to the patterned carpet, still too confused by her own feelings. "Would you judge me if I said no?"

"Felicity?" Sara asserted, trying to get her friend's attention, waiting until she raised her eyes. "Me?"

"Right, no." Felicity sighed and shook her head of the thoughts. "I've been thinking about Oliver."

Sara smiled at Felicity's reluctance to say the words. "Well that explains the doe eyed daydream look you had on when I opened the door."

"Sara," Felicity said with a frown and a tilt of her head.

Sara held her hands up in a mock surrender before crossing them once more. "What were you thinking about in terms of Oliver?"

"Just that he felt, _normal_." Felicity sighed as her eyes took on a faraway expression, as if she could see this other life forming before her eyes. "It was like he was the type of person I could go home to at the end of a long day, tell him all the stories about how Phil in accounting downloaded yet another virus when he opened up his email porn stash, or how Veronica in payroll was being a bitch again, and just have him sit and listen."

Felicity looked to Sara who had a slight smile tickling at her cheeks.

"We could drink a glass of wine while he made dinner, or I made dinner, or we ordered out. And we would watch our favorite shows, well my favorite, he would just watch because he wanted to cuddle." Sara her her smile as Felicity let out a small awkward laugh. "Then we would go to sleep, kissing softly and holding onto each other as we drifted away."

Felicity hated to admit it, but meeting Oliver brought up a whole host of feelings that weren't rational. Oliver wasn't rational, at least not for her. He was a billionaire who oversaw a fortune five hundred company, wore fancy Italian suits, and had his own private jet. Even the life she imagined with him, wasn't something that could reasonably happen.

_Not with him, anyway._

"Sounds like you've thought a lot about this after you spent twenty minutes with him." Sara observed, rocking back on her heels with a knowing expression across her face.

Felicity let her mind drift back to those moments and the way he made her smile. "It was a nice twenty minutes."

It had been so long since anyone outside of Sara and Floyd made her smile, so long since anyone cared to try.

"If you want to talk about your day," Sara spoke in soft tones while taking a few steps closer to Felicity as she did. "I mean I'm no Oliver, but you can tell me about Phil's porn fetish or that bitch Veronica." Sara smiled at the make-believe individuals Felicity thought up. "I will even help you key her car."

Felicity laughed, a good laugh. "Stop." She shook her head, still smiling.

"I'm serious." Sara smiled before giving her friend a wink. "I've been told I have a wild streak."

"Sara, thank you." Felicity tried again, with less laughter, but with a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'm just saying, until you find your _normal_. You've got me." Sara reached out and took hold of Felicity's hand. While Sara couldn't give Felicity her dream of what Oliver represented, she could at least give her … her. Her _friend_.

"So I found some more blueprints of Anatoli Knyazev's house." Felicity said with a deep breath and twist in her chair. "Apparently it's going to be harder than we thought."

Sara moved back to the arm of the chair, letting out a deep breath as she did. "Why am I not surprised?"

Felicity twirled back to her, a look of determination on her face. "Hard doesn't mean impossible." With an encouraging smile Felicity moved her tablet from the edge of the desk to her lap. "According to the intel China White and our new evil benefactors, the Triad, gave us, we know that the Bratva members have been alerted to our presence."

"Meaning they have moved the egg and other priceless possessions to the main house." Sara finished, reaching for the tablet in Felicity's hands, which she gave up before turning back to the computer.

"That means security around the egg is going to be tight." Sara glanced up to see a two dimensional floor plan of the pakhan's house flash on the screen. "And any assault on that front will have to be quick. Like super quick."

Sara nodded, looking down at the tablet in her hands, Anatoli's criminal portfolio on the main page. "But Anatoli will not be there, only a handful of his best guards."

"Correct," Felicity pointed. "The head honcho of the Bratva will be at a formal event across the city where some of Russia's elite will gather and boast about their respective organizations evil-doings."

"Which will be strategically located near the drop site." Sara finished. "Convenient that Chien wants us to steal the egg from the Bratva mansion, then deliver it to the building across the street from where they are hosting a huge crime orgy."

"And that leads me to my favorite part of the job, and really the only part that matters," Felicity typed out random letters and numbers before bringing up a screen with Floyd's face on it. "Free Floyd 2015."

"You really need to stop calling it that." Sara muttered upon seeing their mentor's face.

"Well, that's what it is." Felicity shrugged. "Either way, this position will be heavily guarded by the Triad, so this is another 'quick like a bunny' kind of job. We need to get him out before the Triad double crosses us, and kills us all."

"And with Chien insisting her man drop us off at the mansion, we still have to steal the egg." Sara groaned. If it wasn't for their 'escort' they wouldn't even have to worry about the damn egg.

"Meaning both of us need to be on the inside on this one."

"You sure you can handle this?" Sara asked, nervous chills racing through her veins. "Last time you went inside on a job you fell for the target."

"Well I have high hopes that Oliver Queen won't be involved on this one, and I seriously doubt I will leave with feelings for the egg."

"Ok, so you go inside the mansion while I work on freeing Floyd."

"By the time you disable the guards and get Floyd to safer ground, I will be halfway to the rendezvous point with a new little trinket, which will turn up in the Bratva's special mailbox by morning." Felicity clapped both hands together, her eyes alight with excitement. "Sounds like we have the start to a really great plan, partner."

* * *

"Oliver, my friend," Anatoli greeted him as he and Diggle stepped off of the tarmac.

Oliver smiled wide as he greeted the pakhan with arms outstretched. "I received your message"

"I know how you dislike Bratva methods, but I knew you'd come if I asked." He nodded to Oliver. "You're a good man."

Oliver ducked his head. His friendship with Anatoli ran deep, as deep as blood. Anatoli had protected him, and promoted him to the rank of captain, which had been unheard of. He taught him how to be a soldier. Anatoli was more than just a friend. He was a brother.

"And you brought my second favorite American," he laughed as he opened arms wide for Diggle. "John Diggle, thank you for joining us."

"Sir." John greeted, hand outstretched.

Oliver watched as Anatoli took John's hand with a large smile before stepping back to usher them into the airport terminal.

"Why don't we get a drink?" Anatoli suggested as he led them through the airport. "Then we can discuss the business."

Oliver and Diggle exchange a glance behind Anatoli's back, neither wanting to let on how much they really knew about the thieves. Both men had agreed back in Starling on their course of action. They would arrive in Russia, stop Felicity and her partner from the job they were about to do, and then return them to the states.

How they planned on tracking Felicity and her associate they believed to be the Canary would be a little more difficult. Sure they had intel indicating the night of the 'Bratva Bash,' as Tommy called it, was the prime target. Oliver, however, didn't think the event was the sight of the attack.

"Anatoli," Oliver spoke up as they approached the exit to the airport. "As much as John and I would love to get a drink, we should probably get started on what we came here to do."

Anatoli paused, smile still on his face. "Nonsense, Oliver, there is always time for a little водка between friends."

John spared Oliver a short glance, his eyebrows raised, as the town car driver held the passenger side door open for the men.

"It's been a while since someone opened a door for me." John muttered pointedly as Oliver passed him to slide into the back of the car.

"You run a security company, Dig." Oliver told him. "It's been a long time since you've been my driver and had to open my door."

Diggle snorted. "Yeah, then how come I'm the one who always drives the getaway van?"

Oliver tipped his chin in disapproval. "We could always ask Tommy to drive through a barrage of bullets and arrows."

The meaning of Oliver's words dawning on Diggle as they were spoken. With Oliver dressed up at night that would leave Tommy Merlyn, bar owner who watched the Fast &amp; the Furious series one too many times, to plan their escapes.

Oliver's lips lifted as he watched Diggle understand what he was saying. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

* * *

**Translations: **

**Спасибо за вашу доброту - Thank you for your kindness**  
**Я волновался вы не помните код,- I was worried you would't know the code.**  
**Анатолий сказал, что вы. Он имеет веру в вас.- Anatoli said you would. He has faith in you.**  
**Вам больше не будете мальчиком на побегушках.- You're no longer an errand boy.**  
**Тем не менее, я все еще на побегушках.- Yet I am still running errands.**  
**Есть волки в лесу'- He would tell him.**  
**Они съест тебя, если бы предоставилась возможность- There are wolves in the forest, they will eat you if given the chance**

**брат- Brother**


	8. The Bratva Job Part ii

**AN: Thank you all for your kind encouragement and support. You're all truly amazing.**

**This chapter starts pre-prologue, but runs right into AND past it. I tried to alter the pacing, so unfortunately we didn't see much of how Felicity made her way to the room, but I hope the Olicity interaction can make up for it. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it, but I'd love to hear some constructive feedback.**

* * *

_**The Bratva Job Part ii**_

The walls of Anatoli's war room were plastered with pictures of known associates who may have placed the Bratva in their sites. Some were familiar to Oliver, men and women he encountered during his tenure, while others seemed all but strangers.

One face stuck out over the others as a prime suspect. One who would be just bold enough to challenge the leading organized crime organization – China White.

The surveillance photo tacked onto the corkboard showed the brilliant white hair, reflective in the sun, while she worse large sunglasses to shield her eyes. Her sleek physique, meant to tempt and allure those around her – make them doubt her skill – only reminded Oliver what he had learned all too long ago in Hong Kong. She was dangerous, and not to be underestimated.

"What about him?" Diggle asked, holding up a picture of a man with a patch over his eye. .

Floyd Lawton, or Deadshot as they knew him. Oliver had been able to utilize one of the IT techs at Queen Consolidated who had been all too happy to help _the_ Oliver Queen fix his bullet riddled laptop to locate Lawton's plans.

This had been at the beginning of his crusade and marked the night John Diggle learned the truth about him. Oliver nearly lost Diggle in the process while Lawton got away unscathed

What Oliver hadn't known at the time was that Deadshot had been responsible for the death of John's younger brother.

Oliver remembered John's face as he told him the news. His friend was broken. All that time spent hating a man who, as it turned out, was merely used as a weapon. All that Diggle thought he had been searching for had been erased, leaving new questions in his mind.

Anatoli shook his head before moving to the small bar in the corner of the room. "The assassin known as Deadshot was spotted in Corto Maltese just last week."

"What?" John spat, his eyes turning to the photo in his hands. "Do criminals take vacations now?"

Anatoli exchanged a concerned glance with Oliver, who only shook his head to not proceed.

"Deadshot is rumored to have ties to a smuggling operation based in Corto Maltese." Anatoli redirected, holding up a small glass of vodka as he did. "Very lucrative."

"So he's not a suspect?" Oliver asked while glancing to where John stood, still staring at the picture.

Anatoli took a drink from his tumbler before shaking his head. "Not this time."

Oliver nodded his understanding before returning to the photos on the wall. The photo of Chien Na Wei still stood out to him – stark white hair, thick aviator sunglasses, and blood red lipstick called his past with her to the forefront of his mind. Her cool and calm demeanor during their previous encounters always sent a chill down his spine.

The woman was terrifying and had the skill of a cutthroat murderer. She was also a complete pain in the ass.

"She was spotted in Manila yesterday," Anatoli told him while handing him a tumbler of vodka. "She was our prime suspect too."

"Just because she's not here, doesn't mean she doesn't have anything to do with it." John spoke up from across the room, the photo in his hand speaking volumes.

"Trust me, my friend, the man known as Deadshot has not stepped foot on Russian soil since you were last here." Anatoli took a drink from his glass before moving in John's direction. As he handed off the last glass, he directed his next remark at Oliver. "True, the Triad did have a wide array of resources."

"Did?" Oliver asked, turning from the picture in front of him.

Anatoli seemed to sigh before moving to the couch nearest Diggle. "The Triad has been laying low after they crossed paths with the wrong person."

John and Oliver exchanged another look before Oliver placed his still full tumbler on the conference room table. "So? Attacking the Bratva would be a comeback."

Anatoli shook his head as if the idea of what Oliver was saying and thinking was impossible. Then again, Oliver wasn't part of this life, at least not anymore. He didn't know what had been happening on this side of the Bratva, not since he left.

"The man they crossed … he ripped their organization apart." Anatoli spoke slowly, carefully. "Not only would the Triad be foolish in their attempt, but they wouldn't have the resources."

"Who did they cross?" Diggle asked, his grip still firm around the glass of vodka.

"A man by the name of Ra's al Ghul," Anatoli spoke in a soft tone, almost as if he was afraid the man would hear him. "He's a legend, and one not to be trifled with."

Oliver was sure Chien Na Wei was somehow involved. He could feel it in his gut with absolute certainty. He just didn't know how she fit in.

"Members of the Triad who escaped have been driven underground." Anatoli continued. "If they were to attack the Bratva, they would be outed to the Demon's head and would have nowhere to go."

John nodded in understanding. "It doesn't mean they wouldn't be stupid enough to try."

Felicity, for the whole twenty minutes he knew her and the time he spent researching her, didn't seem the type to have a death wish. Her credentials, stellar as they were, didn't include going after organized crime syndicates. Someone must have put her up to the job, must have turned her on to the Bratva.

If it wasn't Chien, it must have been the woman in the airport, her partner.

But if it was the Triad attempting to exert their power through a third party that meant the full force of Ra's al Ghul's army would come down on them in addition to the Bratva members. If they were in league with the Triad, they would be enemies of the greatest rumored assassin to ever walk the earth.

The mission, was pure suicide.

* * *

Felicity looked at herself one last time in the mirror, running her hands over her ponytail, her body coursing with nervous energy. It was normal, she knew, to be nervous before a job. It was practically required.

Floyd would always tell her that if you weren't nervous before a job, you were overconfident, and were going to fail.

So the pre-historic sized butterflies making waves in her stomach were normal. At least that was what she kept telling herself.

"It's ok to be nervous," Sara voiced from behind her, leaning against the door jam.

Felicity grinned, knowing Sara was referring to the same pep talk she had received. Floyd did have a way with the Yoda-like advice.

Of course their thoughts were on Floyd during this job. Floyd was who mattered this time around, not the score.

"Floyd always says that." Felicity reminded her. "It's weird, isn't it? How everything we learned was from him."

Sara seemed to stare off to the side at Felicity's words.

"I mean he saved us both," Felicity continued, pulling at the black mask on the bathroom vanity. "He taught me how to take care of myself after my mom."

Sara remained silent behind Felicity, her eyes returning their focus.

"Did I ever tell you I'm not a natural blonde," Felicity began, making eye contact through the mirror. "Nope, not me."

Sara nodded before taking a step into the room. She was careful with her footsteps, afraid to make any movement that might startle Felicity. Felicity never talked about herself, or her family. Felicity knew that Sara knew this.

"My mom was blonde," Felicity said with a smile. She could picture her mom, bright as day, smiling wide in her cut out dresses and six inch heels. "She was … my mother."

She kept her eyes on her friend, waiting for Sara to say something, but she remained quiet. It was comforting, to have her sit there, waiting patiently for Felicity to continue. She never pushed.

"Whenever I have to pretend I'm someone else, whenever I have to be Cynthia or Sally or Meghan, I always picture my mom." Felicity stopped, glancing down at the mask in her hands. "I don't try to _be_ my mom, but I see her. She would put on this thick show make up and dress up like someone else every night to go to work, and when I look in the mirror, I see the life she didn't want for me."

Sara put her hand on Felicity's, pausing her movements.

"You are not your mother." Sara told her, causing Felicity to tip her head. "And this is not the same thing."

"When Floyd found me," Felicity spoke quietly with a nod, raising her eyes to meet Sara's. "I wanted to help people. People like my mom."

"And you are," Sara urged, squeezing Felicity's hand as she did. "You are helping people."

Felicity didn't feel it. Never in her life had she regretted her choice to leave her life behind and start stealing from people. She never thought that what she was doing was wrong. Even now, staring at the reflection of herself in the mirror, she didn't believe that she was one hundred percent in the wrong.

She never went into a job with the intention to hurt someone, and held firm on her rules of never robbing someone who couldn't financially handle it. The Queen Job, for example, was possible because the Queen's had an insurance policy the size of first world country on those earrings.

But, today she couldn't really place how what she was doing was helping other people. How was she really making a difference?

"Hey," Sara nudged Felicity in the shoulder. "You are a good person and your mother would be so proud of you." Felicity offered her a small smile in return before Sara wrapped her arms around her friend.

In the reflection, both women were short, petite in frame – although Sara had more muscle tone than Felicity – and both were blonde. They could have reasonably passed as sisters – and on some jobs, did – if they wanted too.

Felicity had never had an easy time finding a place where she felt at home. It was always too hard to find that feeling of some mediocre word people used to define the place they lived. The clichéd want of something to just feel right, or the people to embrace you. She didn't think 'home' was out there for her.

With Sara, it was the closest she had ever come to having a home.

"I get that you're nervous," Sara told her as she unwrapped her arms. "I am too. We go in, we get what we came for, and we get out."

Felicity nodded, looking back at her reflection in the mirror.

"And then when we finish, maybe we should talk about taking a break." Sara admitted. "I'm tired too, and this might be the perfect time."

Felicity looked back over at Sara, a warm smile in place. Maybe that did sound like a good idea.

But she couldn't think about that now. It was time to get her focus back on rescuing Floyd and not getting killed by the Bratva or the Triad. Thinking of time away could wait until they were safely out of dodge.

Maybe then Meghan Carmichael could take a trip to Starling City and casually bump into Oliver Queen. It would be nice to see Oliver again.

"Do you want the grappling hook in case something goes wrong and you have to use the window?" Sara asked, breaking through Felicity's thoughts.

Felicity looked at the claw shaped tool Sara was holding, then back to her bag of supplies.

"You mean in case I trip a wire and Bratva agents come swarming into the room before shooting me full of bullets?" Felicity asked much to Sara's displeasure.

With the Bratva's network being as secure as possible her bag was filled with old school tech, ropes, a special formula China White gave them to put the guards to sleep, and mace.

Felicity had been working on finding a way into their network but couldn't even get close. The past few weeks had been trial and error to an extreme.

The person who set up the Bratva's network must have been a genius to install so many firewalls and encryption codes. This system was self-sustaining and didn't need any third party interference, meaning any interruption of the system could trigger an alert, or a glitch at the very least.

Any disruption could bring serious trouble for both of them. And by serious she didn't mean getting locked up in a cell for the night, but eternal torture and misery kind of serious.

"They aren't agents." Felicity didn't miss the roll of Sara's eyes as she turned back to the equipment.

Felicity knew Sara's meaning. Daughter of a cop meant that Sara was always on point with titles. Everyone had a proper name, a proper title and it was best to get it right, she would say. To Felicity it didn't seem like a big deal. Whether she called them agents, henchmen, or whatever they were actually called, they would shoot her regardless.

She had heard stories about the Bratva. Bad stories. Felicity knew that if they failed at this, there would be no exit plan, no way out. With both of them on separate sides of the city it only made them more nervous.

"You don't have to worry about me," Felicity voiced, quietly to Sara's back. Sara tensed but did not turn around. "I know you're worried, and you always worry. I'm not the best at hand to hand combat and I'm pretty good at sticking my foot in my mouth at the worst times."

Sara remained frozen in her spot, not making any indication she had heard what Felicity was saying, but Felicity knew she was listening.

"You always think you have to protect me when we go out on jobs because you think I don't have enough experience." Felicity watched Sara turn slowly, not denying her words, but visibly pained to know Felicity knew this. "You're right, too. I stay in the car or the van or the hotel room, and you do all the super-thief stuff."

Felicity took a deep breath as she looked over her friend. Her best friend. Felicity didn't know why, but there was a growing lump in the pit of her stomach. It caused a tinge of bile to rise in her throat and a cool sweat to sweep over her.

For some reason, unknown to her, she felt as though after this job she would never see Sara again. Or at least not the same as she did now.

Felicity had a terrible feelings that things were about to change.

"But I'm promising you that you do not have to worry this time." Felicity knew that if Sara was focused on her instead of rescuing Floyd, then Sara was more likely to get captured or killed. "I am going to be beyond careful, and take extra precautions."

Sara stood still for a moment, letting her eyes examine Felicity's expression, her stance, the way she held her bag tight against her shoulder. She knew Felicity was serious, and that she would try her best not to get caught or killed.

With a short, jerky nod Sara moved back to the blueprints on the bed. "We should run through both jobs one more time," she cleared her throat. "Then pack up and head out."

Felicity nodded before joining Sara at their make-shift command center.

* * *

John Diggle's first impression was that the warehouse had been untouched, and remained so, for almost a decade.

As soon as they saw the picture of the abandoned facility Diggle's Special Forces training kicked into overdrive. The location of an abandoned warehouse next to a Bratva special event was sure enough guaranteed to be the location of the suspected 'hit.' It was just too good of an opportunity to be passed up.

There was also the report from Anatoli in which all priceless valuables were transferred to the main house. A thief's dream of treasure, no doubt. Anatoli justified this move of goods as a security measure – The Bratva pakhan's home had more security than any bank or museum.

Diggle also knew well enough to know that meant the likelihood of any theft would take place there. Also meaning, Felicity Smoak was sure to be lurking about, waiting for an opportunity.

It had been Oliver's idea to split up for the night which had been a large point of discord between the two. Diggle knew that Oliver had feelings for the Smoak girl, and he also knew she was trouble. If Oliver lucked out and ended up coming face to face with this woman, he didn't know how he would react.

In the time Diggle had known Oliver, the man had made impressive strides. Oliver Queen returned a completely different man. He was damaged as some would say. Putting on grease paint at night before going out and putting arrows in criminals of the city was hardly textbook healthy behavior.

But Diggle stuck by his former client. Even after Diggle took a job with the nearly defunct Black Hawk security, he still made it a point to stay on Team Oliver. As a friend and a partner.

Now, seeing all the progress Oliver had made being placed in jeopardy because of one woman made him worry.

Yet, Diggle listened when Oliver told him to go to the warehouse with the sniper rifle while he waited at the mansion for a thief.

He looked through the scope of the rifle once more, maintaining a visual on the building ahead of him. There had been no movement the entire time he had been there, which made him wonder if they had been played.

It wasn't impossible for another organization to send a false message out claiming there was a threat to the Bratva while using Felicity and her partner as a decoy.

The fact that they were called to help on another job where the Oracle was involved seemed too coincidental for his liking. The Bratva also seemed to be hiding something. A one line transmission stating 'they're coming' was not enough, in his mind, to warrant a high security threat.

The whole trip had seemed suspicious to him.

Out of the bottom of the scope he noticed the slightest movement.

Sharpening the viewfinder he noticed a blur moving towards the southwest corner of the building dressed in all black. The person was smaller in build, but held themselves low against the wall. If he was right in his assumption, he would saw the person creeping along the wall was Felicity Smoak.

Pulling the rifle from its stand, Diggle began to disassemble it, putting each piece in the opened case. Maybe it was time to have a conversation with Miss Smoak.

* * *

Oliver hadn't wasted much time after their feet hit the ground before he started running towards the edge of the outlining forest. The Bratva, and whoever else was shooting at them, would be sure to follow, but he had a better chance of losing them in the thick brush than on the open road leading to the house.

He had wanted to let Felicity run on her own, but felt a twinge of distrust spring to life at the memory of her reaching for the egg and setting the last five minutes in motion – including an explosion.

So instead of letting her run, he simply threw her over his shoulder and pushed his way through the forest. She must have been in shock because she made no move to argue and was the perfect partner in their daring escape. He only stopped when he felt the woman on his shoulder throw a punch into what was probably his kidney.

"Jesus," he bit back a yell as he dropped her to the ground. "What the hell?"

"You swung me out a window." She screached before putting a hand over her mouth, not wanting to draw attention to their location. Oliver hated to admit she was adorable when she was angry, or indignant, he couldn't quite tell. "Out a fucking window!"

"A thank you would be appropriate right about here," He told her, stretching out a hand to help her to her feet. She promptly ignored it.

Oliver shook it off and began to walk away, leaving her trailing behind.

"Oh I'm sorry," she said with sarcasm dripping from her every word. "How could I forget to thank the man who nearly got us killed?"

"I nearly –" He exclaimed, halting his steps. "You're the one trying to rob the Bratva,"

"Yeah, and let's talk about your shady alliances." She mimicked his movements, hands on her hips. "Should I call you Oliver or Arrow, or wait? Bratva errand boy?"

He gritted his teeth at her words. While the Bratva wasn't something he liked being associated with, she could at least have had a little respect.

"Captain, actually," he told her, standing a little straighter as he did.

Oliver watched as she pursed her lips before letting out a loud guffaw. Covering her mouth quickly to hide the noise. There was mirth in her eyes while she eyed him up, trying to stop her laughter.

"I'm sorry, but that's kind of funny," she told him when she finally caught her breath.

Instead of responding he merely turned away from her and began to walk through the forest. The sooner he got to Diggle the sooner they could get this over with. The more time he spent with this woman the less he liked her.

"You're American," she told him, laughter holding firm in her voice.

"Look who went to MIT." She couldn't see it, but he rolled his eyes at her obvious conclusion.

"No I mean," she trailed off, pushing a branch out of her way as she followed in his path. "Why would the Bratva make an American – a spoiled, rich, playboy American at that – a Captain of their regime?"

"You wouldn't understand," he uttered, not daring to turn around. "It was a special circumstance."

Oliver paused, remembering the night he met Anatoli on the freighter. She wouldn't understand why Anatoli respected him, or why his friend made the choice to buck tradition and give him the star on his chest. She was a thief who knew nothing of honor or the meaning of having your brother's back.

He waited for her response, sure to be another sarcastic remark about 'special circumstance' meant to be an insult at his character. He didn't know why he expected better at this point. She tricked him at the gala, and then tried to rob his friend. When he saved her life she rebuffed him, insulted him, and blamed him for an explosion that had been her fault.

He had been so wrong about her.

Yet, her response never came. For once, she was silent.

_Maybe she had been eaten by a pack of wolves,_ Oliver thought to himself.

When he turned around, not sure what to expect, he found her clutching a tree branch, her breathing heavy.

"Oliver," she murmured. "I think I'm bleeding." Her words were soft and small, so unlike the woman who was yelling at him for saving her life only seconds before.

Her blue eyes were scared … and innocent, as she stared up at him, her knuckles white from her grip on the branch.

He muttered a curse in Russian, one Anatoli taught him, before he lowered himself in front of her. There on her upper thigh was the notable appearance of blood trickling a path down her leg. The source, a piece of glass, was jutting just visibly from her muscle.

The adrenaline from the explosion and the argument must have kept her from feeling the pain or noticing the blood. He had fallen prey to that same trick once or twice in his line of work and knew just how disconcerting it was to finally realize the wound had been there all along.

He looked up at the woman in front of him whose eyes now pleaded with him.

"I don't like blood," she murmured. "Or pointy objects, really."

He let his hand trace the ridges of the glass, trying to get a feel for what they were dealing with in the dark. Judging by the location they could be dealing with major blood loss if he were to take it out. The femeral artery was nearby, he guessed. He wished Diggle was the one dealing with this situation.

Felicity took in a deep, shaky breath as she gripped the branch tighter. "Sara is going to kill me."

"Hey," Oliver's voice was unnaturally soft, warm even, as he tried to get her attention. "No one is going to kill you."

Felicity winced as his hand stilled near the shard. "You're being unnaturally nice for someone who wanted me to be eaten by wolves twenty seconds ago."

He paused at that. Had he made that statement aloud?

"I sometimes talk without thinking too," she gave him a pained smirk.

"I remember," he whispered as her eyes pointed upwards. "Give me jacket so I can try and stop the bleeding."

Felicity shrugged out of her black, microfiber jacket, with a shiver at the bitter cold. "Why is Russia so cold?"

"Once I get this tied, you can have mine," he told her, taking the fabric from her hands before he tied it tight around the wound.

They needed to get to Diggle to know what they were looking at.

"Ow," she murmured as he tightened the jacket around her thigh. "You could at least be a little gentle."

"There she is." Oliver let a chuckle fall from his lips. "Berating me for helping her."

"I don't," she paused as she met his eyes. "I'm sorry."

He nodded before standing to his feet, the wet leaves from the forest floor holding firm to his leather clad knee. With a simple shrug he pulled his arms from the green, leather jacket before draping it around her shoulders.

"Come on," he whispered, putting an arm around her back to hold her weight. "We need to get to my partner so he can fix you up."

She nodded, short and stilted in her motions. "So you can hand me over to the police in one piece, right?"

He tried to keep the regret from his eyes. Tried to hold back how right she was.

She was frustrating and had trouble written all over her – which hadn't been as obvious the night he met her. He wanted to wring her neck the minute she took hold of that stupid egg when he told her not too, yet all he could think was how red her lips looked in the moonlight, or how blue her eyes were.

No matter how much of a criminal she was, he couldn't get the woman he spent twenty minutes with, Meghan, out of his mind.

"How about while we walk you talk to me?" He told her, shaking his thoughts of her in a red dress out of his mind. "It'll help pass the time."

"Or it'll keep me from going into shock," she challenged. "Also a good way to get me to incriminate myself."

"Oh, Felicity, I've already caught you stealing a pricelss Fabrege egg and you think I still need you to incriminate yourself?" This time his laugh was real. "Why don't you tell me about your friend, Sara? I'm assuming she's your partner in all this?"

"Why? Don't I look like a criminal mastermind." She winced as she took a step, holding onto the arm around her to keep her upright.

"Oh definitely," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Total criminal mastermind."

Felicity looked at him, her eyes trying to read his expression.

"Sometimes, having a partner can make a dangerous line of work less lonely."

She stared a moment longer trying to take in his sincerity before she continued. "Well, Oliver Queen, you'd be surprised to find out who my friend actually is."

* * *

Sara remained low, knees bent, posture firm, as she made her way into the window entrance she and Felicity scouted out two weeks prior.

By their estimate, the Triad would be keeping Floyd in the storage closet on the second floor of the building. It was remote enough in the building that if the Triad were to double cross them, an escape would not be easy. It was also near the main stairwell, which was open to the where they were supposed to meet.

Floyd was tricky, and so were they. The triad wouldn't want a dangerous hiding spot to buy them time in the event of an escape. The closet was just close enough to the lobby that any guard was sure to see – not to mention the guards they must have already put in place throughout the building.

But a tough situation never stopped them before.

Sara had just made it down the side hallway towards the storage closet when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise. A shudder ran through her spine, causing her to straighten her posture and shift her feet. Better to get in a fighting stance now, she thought.

She hadn't heard anyone approach and she had been careful to circumvent the security sensor Felicity assured her was in place. Had she made an error in her calculations? Had she not timed the guard progression right?

The Triad held pretty obvious guard strategies, or at least they were obvious when Felicity looked at them. They always rotated clockwise around a building at ten, fifteen, twenty five, thirty-six, forty-nine, and fifty-eight past the hour. To Sara it had just been random, but Felicity assured her that was their pattern – and they staggered it counter clockwise too.

"Put your hands up, Miss Smoak." Sara paused at the deep voice. He didn't sound like Triad. "Hands!"

This time his voice was louder, and would more than likely gain a lot of undue attention if she didn't comply or knock him out. Either way, she needed to do something.

"All right," she whispered, her voice muffled by the ski mask covering her face. "Hands are up."

"Now turn around, slow and steady." She didn't have to turn to know he had a gun trained on her back. The click of the safety also helped to clue her in.

Sara did as he said, waiting for her opening, to at least see what she was up against before she attacked.

She did not expect a man at least three times her size with arms bigger than her head.

"Why don't you take off that mask, Miss Smoak?" He told her, although his voice left no room for question.

Fuck! How did Felicity get wrapped up with this guy? She hadn't left her side in weeks and there was no way this guy was even remotely tied to the Triad.

They would have started pulling out the fancy fight moves before she threw a strong right hook at their jaw, knocking them out.

Sometimes basic was better.

But this guy? Seriously? Sure, she could probably knock him down, but the scuffle would be sure to draw attention to them. Attention that would probably get her killed.

"You're not wearing one." Sara could make out the outline of his face in the darkened hallway. He had a rigid jawline and was African American, which furthered her theory that he was not with the Triad. "And you're not Triad, either."

He seemed to not be swayed by her soft tone, only tightening his posture more. He held himself like a professional, as if he had done this countless times before. The pose and the hold read as though it were muscle memory, something he could do without having to think twice. Special Forces or Marine, maybe?

As a kid her father took her to the gun range a few times. A policeman's daughter had to know how to handle a weapon, he would tell her. During those trips she watched the various servicemen and women use their skills and trainings to hit the paper targets on the far walls. She watched them stand, cock their guns, aim for the target, and hit it with pintpoint accuracy.

This man stood, and held himself just like them.

"Why would I be Triad?" He asked, never lowering his weapon. "Are they who hired you?"

Sara shifted her feet, waiting for the right moment, the right distraction to make her move. She had to get Floyd and get out.

"I'm sure you've already figured that out. But you probably also know that the Triad doesn't ask," she told him, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming. "And if you don't lower your weapon and let me go, they are going to make a grand entrance before killing us both."

She saw the hesitance in his eyes, the way his focus wavered for only a split second before he shook it out of his view. But the split second was all she needed to know something was wrong.

"Is this some sort of game?" His asked, his tone filled with disgust. "Some sort of trick to get the drop on me?"

Sara glanced to the side at the staircase she desperately needed to get to.

"There's no one here." He told her, taking a step in the direction of the stairs.

Sara felt a ball of lead form in the pit of her stomach. He was wrong. The Triad had to be here. It was all part of the plan.

They would be here with Floyd while she and Felicity stole the egg. Chien told them so.

But could Chien have so easily double crossed them before she got her profit? Before the Bratva even knew it was the Triad who stole from them? Without the egg, without the proof of theft, the Bratva would have no reason to believe it was them. They would only know it to be a random theft.

Wasn't the point of this to exact revenge? Why double cross them before the theft had been played out? Why kidnap Floyd to make them steal a now worthless piece of Russian history?

Where was the Triad? _Where was Floyd?_

Sara felt the air leave her lungs and her mind begin to spin. Felicity was alone on her side of the job with no protection, no help. If the Triad would really double cross them, that is where they would do it. They would ambush her as she left the safety of the Bratva mansion and leave her to fend for herself in the chaos.

She had to get to Felicity.

As Sara took in a breath and let her eyes find the man who still had his gun trained on her she missed the look of understanding bloom across his features.

She also almost missed the way the gun sliced through the air. She almost missed his step forward so she was within reach. And she almost missed the feel of the cool metal of the gun brushing against her temple, just hard enough to make way for the darkness in her mind to overtake her.

Her only thought as his arms caught her before she hit the floor was of Felicity. _Who was going to save her now?_


	9. The Family we Create

**You all are so amazing! I can't tell you all enough how much I enjoy and am encouraged by your comments. As much as I love writing this fic, hearing that others enjoys it helps too! Thank you!**

**This chapter we see a lot of interaction between Sara, Diggle, Felicity, and Oliver. I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

She didn't know why she was overreacting. She really didn't.

He saved her life back at the Bratva House of Pain. He risked his by trying to dismantle a bomb before swinging her out a window when he could have left her.

He could have turned and left her with her hand wrapped around a bomb. He could have ran off into the woods without carrying her over his shoulder, making sure she got out alive. He could have left her to die.

And he didn't.

Yet she still punched him in the back, yelled at him, and blamed him for something that was clearly a matter of circumstance. Well, if you excluded the fact that she was robbing a dangerous organized crime syndicate and she reached for that stupid egg while trying to be sneaky.

There was a reason she didn't go out into the field that often - or at least a reason why she shouldn't go out into the field in Russia.

Last time she was in Russia she was shot. This time she was nearly blown up. Maybe the country didn't like her.

"You ok?" His voice was warm, and not at all hostile once again reminder her that Oliver Queen was truly a better man than anyone gave him credit for. "You've been quiet for five minutes."

He had slowed his pace to walk alongside her, holding out a hand whenever she tripped. She could see his hand now, his strong, calloused hand, reaching out to her side. He had a light smirk playing at his lips, but an air of caution in his eyes.

Her limp had only increased in the past ten minutes they'd been walking. After getting out of the mansion they had been reduced to travel by foot until they could reach the side access road at least two miles out.

Oliver's defense had been 'it's safer this way.' With his inside knowledge of Bratva tendencies she let him take the lead, her current state of physical well-being preventing her from arguing.

Felicity looked up, taking in a breath of musky, Oliver scent from the leather he draped around her shoulders. How could one man smell so good?

"I'm ok," she whispered, feeling a blush wash over her cheeks before looking away. "Just thinking."

"I don't know you very well, but how come I get the feeling that you and thinking can be a dangerous combination?" He said with a chuckle.

She liked the sound of his laugh. For someone so serious, it sounded right.

Felicity turned to object but felt a twinge of pain shoot through her injured leg. "Can we pause for a minute?"

Oliver glanced over his shoulder, and seemed to do what she would call a 'perimeter scan' before giving her a quick nod. It made her wonder just what happened on that island to make Oliver Queen, spoiled-rich-Oliver Queen, the man in front of her.

"Is it still bleeding?" He asked before lowering to one knee without waiting for her response. "It would probably help with the pain if you kept your weight off of it."

"Is that an offer for a piggy-back ride through the Russian tundra?" Felicity asked with a laugh, her eyes falling closed as his hand began to run along the location of her wound.

This time the sensation that coursed through her was not due to pain.

"It's a forest, not a tundra," he chuckled. "It may be easier to pick you up and carry you. At least then you'll stop slowing me down."

Felicity's eyes flashed open, but caught the twinkle in Oliver's. He was joking with her.

"Look at that, the Arrow can make a joke." She paused only a moment before continuing on. "I'm sorry, about before."

He looked up with an expectant glance. Clearly those four words weren't going to be enough.

"I shouldn't have blamed you for everything back there and I shouldn't have been such a … a bitch."

"Oh come on, I've seen worse." Oliver's tone was light, but she saw it was more for her benefit.

"Yeah, but I'm not normally a bitch, and you did save my life." Felicity paused to meet his eyes. There they were, the ocean blue eyes of the man she dreamt about for the past ten weeks. It felt like coming home, or something else familiar. "Thank you."

Oliver didn't laugh that time, but stood to his feet. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her with an intense look in his eyes. It wasn't a hostile look, but a questioning one.

"Why are you doing this?" It was a simple enough question with such a complicated answer.

She was well aware her situation was probably a therapist's dream. Lost little girl with abandonment issues. and residual anger and resentment directed at the high earning insurance companies who could give a crap about the little guy when it came to getting their pay out, which was one reason why she liked to target big scores with insurance claims taken out on them.

It was also a façade, a redirect away from what she was really angry about.

But it was too long of a story to tell.

"I could ask you the same thing," she rebutted instead, her hands moving to tighten the jacket around her shoulders. "From what I know about you, vigilante crime fighting isn't exactly the craps table at the Bellagio."

She watched as a ghost passed through Oliver's eyes. The memory of his time spent away, the situations that made him into the man standing before her danced through his expression before fading. It was a brief flash of pain so real she almost felt it, before it vanished behind a wall of stoicism.

"Things happen," he murmured, eyes blank. "You never answered my question. Even though we only talked for twenty minutes at the gala I never would have guessed you would be doing …" he gestured to her black attire, her ski mask must have been lost somewhere between the mansion and the forest. "This."

Felicity wondered if the same haunted expression passed through her eyes at the memory of why she began to live this life. The memory of her mother's body, so thin and frail, begging for death to come and claim her – to take away the pain that gnawed through her insides and made it impossible to eat or sleep.

The sounds of the medical claims department at the hospital asking where their payment was, the insurance company refusing to pay – stating it was not necessary treatment for Donna's condition. The faces of the men, women, and even children sitting in the oncology waiting room, waiting to hear the same fate as her and her mother.

The silence that followed as she waited for one more breath, just one more, from her mother's chapped lips. That silence was deafening.

"Things happen." She mimicked before taking a step forward.

The idea of stopping to rest no longer held any appeal.

* * *

Sara's first thought as she began to regain consciousness was of Felicity ... and Nyssa. Both would be equally pissed to find out Sara had been captured. Not to mention Felicity was somewhere out there, alone, with the Triad planning a double cross.

Her second thought was of escape, but the hard plastic of what she believed to be zip ties, held her tight around her wrist. Getting out of a pair of zip ties was no big deal, Floyd trained her in the art of breaking her thumb to slip them off easily enough. She had tried teaching Felicity, but her friend kept squirming and yelping before she could actually try.

That didn't matter anyway as they soon learned Felicity was a pro at getting out of restraints. She was a real natural at picking locks and slipping out of bindings. Of course when Sara would complement her, Felicity would blush red before babbling some inappropriate comment.

All of Sara's knowledge in getting out of dangerous situations, though, was useless as her captor sat calmly in front of her, glock casually held in his dominant hand.

He looked at her as if he could see right through her, as if her every thought was open for him to see. His eyes were piercing as they probed her fears and nightmares, the possibility of losing the only family she had. It was terrifying, but she didn't want to be the one to blink first. He knocked her out and tied her up. The least he could do was tell her who he was before he shot her.

At least while he waited she could think about what the hell just happened. Floyd wasn't there, the Triad wasn't there. It had all been a setup, but why?

Why would the Triad use them like this? Why had she let Felicity go off on her own? And how did this guy know Felicity?

"I don't expect you to talk," the man spoke. His voice was deeper than she remembered. "You might need something for that head."

Oh right, she had been hit in the head by the butt of his gun. That explained the splitting headache that accompanied all her questions.

She turned her attention back to the rather large man, who was reasonably attractive, and now handing two small pills out to her.

"You have got to be kidding me." She nearly hit herself for speaking up, or she would have if she hadn't been tied up.

The man in front of her shook his head before reaching behind her to unhook her left hand. "They're Tylenol." He told her before he dropped the pills in her hand.

Sara couldn't help but stare at him with an incredulous expression written across her brow. Not taking pills from people who hit you and tied you up was rule number one in her book.

"I'd say introductions were in order but I already know who you are." He told her. Worry was non-existent on his face as he moved to sit back in his chair, even though he just untied her. "Sara Lance, also known as the Canary."

Sara schooled her expression, as she let the "Tylenol" drop to the ground.

"You were born and raised in Starling City to Captain Quentin Lance, of SCPD, and Dinah Lance, professor of History." He rattled off. "Your sister is Assistant District Attorney, Laurel Lance, and you ran away from your home and your family seven years ago to become a thief and a con-artist.

"You're a known associate of the Oracle, also known as Felicity Smoak, and were here in Russia, to kill a Bratva official." Sara twisted her right wrist in the zip tie.

Sure she could try to escape with one hand free, but two hands would buy her a better chance against big arms and his gun.

"All of this information is easily available all with a fingerprint and a press of a button. But what I want to know is, why?"

Sara paused, eyes fixed on the gun.

"Why are you suddenly graduating from theft to murder? And what does the Triad have to do with any of this?"

Sara felt her confusion grow, but kept her eyes on the man in front of her.

"Unless you're not," he added with a questioning tone.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Sara spoke but kept her voice low.

The man in front of her seemed conflicted. His face showed his turmoil at the situation. Like he just stated, not a lot about their situation added up. Primarily because Felicity and Sara weren't murderers. They stayed as far away from the organized crime groups as they possibly could. Never piss off someone with a bigger gun, was what Floyd always told them.

"Then help me understand," he urged.

Sara turned away from him. Talking raised the risk of incriminating Felicity, and she didn't know this guy. How did she know he wouldn't just turn around and use that information against her?

"I know your father." That caught her attention. "He's a good man, a good cop."

But Sara saw through his words. She knew exactly what he was doing, and it wouldn't work. Sara kept a tight enough eye on her family's business to know how her family was and how 'good' of people they were. She was the outcast.

"I know your sister, too." He said, causing her to turn her head to face him. "She's got a big heart, terrible cook, but a big heart."

Sara felt something stir in her chest at a memory long ago buried. When they were little, Laurel used to try to make the boxed macaroni and cheese her mother would buy for the nights when she was grading papers late, or her father was working. Laurel would always want to help their parents out and start dinner so they didn't have to worry the girls wouldn't eat.

No matter how many times Laurel tried, she burnt the macaroni every time. Once she even set off the smoke detector and incited a panic, causing their mom to rush out of her study, ready to grab both teenaged girls and run from the house.

Her sister had always tried to take care of her, even if that was with burnt macaroni. That's who Laurel was.

"The Triad hired me," Sara spoke up, her voice sounding small and meek as it left her mouth. "They wanted me to steal a valuable item from the Bratva to prove a point."

The man in front of her sat back in his chair, arms folded across his very broad chest. Seriously what did this guy bench?

He seemed confused by what she was saying and gestured, with his gun still in his grasp, for her to continue.

"When I told them no, they kidnapped an associate of mine as incentive." Sara sighed as she relived the moment China White told them about Floyd. The man was their mentor and was used as a bargaining chip. "I was trying to double cross them, and save my associate … but it looks like they weren't exactly honest with their plans."

Big arms nodded in front of her, seemingly believing her story. She watched as he stood to his feet, holstered his gun, and moved towards her.

She waited as he walked behind her, disappearing out of sight before she felt the zip tie on her secured wrist being released. He was letting her go?

"Thank you," he told her, letting her wrist go from his grasp. "Now let's tryyou telling me the story but this time include how Felicity Smoak fits in to all this."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need to stop?" Oliver asked for the second time in five minutes.

Her limp had only worsened and he was sure the added pressure would cause the wound to start bleeding again.

They had had a moment, he and Felicity. It wasn't much, barely a moment really, but he saw a part of her she hadn't meant for him to see. Her refusal to answer his question and the raw pain that passed through her eyes told him more than words could.

She paused in her movements, cringing as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Can we?"

Her voice was pleading even though she was trying to hide the amount of pain she was in. Oliver could tell by the way so forced herself to stand a little straighter, the way she continued to shift her weight to her uninjured leg, that she was trying to keep a brave face in front of him.

"Yeah." He directed her to a nearby tree, his hand barely grazing her back. "I should probably check your wound too."

He saw her give a little nod as he helped her lower herself to the forest floor.

"You really don't have to do that," he told her as he crouched down beside her. "Pretend you're ok when you're hurting."

She shook her head and looked up at the tree above, seeing nothing but darkness, as he tried to examine the injury in the dark. Having a flash light would have been convenient, but he had experience patching up his own wounds on the island in less than ideal situations.

"We have to keep moving." She winced as his hands began to trail over the fabric of the makeshift tourniquet, her now blood covered jacket, around her leg. "I can make it, we just have to keep moving."

"Felicity you're in pain." He told her, eyes glancing up to meet hers. "If we keep moving like this you could irritate the wound more."

"It's a little scratch, just a small piece of glass," she argued, but there was worry evident in her tone. "I'll be fine."

Oliver moved his hands from the wrap to take her cold hands in his own. "We don't know that. I'm not as experienced as my partner in properly patching up stuff like this."

"You mean you didn't go to medical school on that island of yours?" Felicity bumbled out with a laugh and a quick squeeze of his hand. "I mean that would be pretty interesting. You go away and come back some trained neurosurgeon or something. Not that coming back as some trained ass-kicker isn't interesting. I imagine your island wasn't exactly summer camp."

Oliver could only stare at her in awe. She really did talk a lot, and he found it refreshing. "Not exactly summer camp." He echoed. "It was cold, anddark, and I had to do things I'm not proud of... But I get the feeling you understand a little bit of that."

In her eyes he didn't see judgment or pity, which when the island was brought up he normally received. Sometimes he got blank stares or a look of disbelief, none of which helped, especially when he had first returned home.

With Felicity he only saw a vague flash of understanding. It was something that relayed, while she couldn't put herself in his shoes, she had an island of her own. She had pain and experienced loss that no one else could understand.

"How about I carry you the rest of the way?" He asked, breaking the moment with a quick smile. "It's not that far and it will be a lot quicker."

Felicity looked as though she was about to object but her eyes began to warm. "Well who am I to argue with the Arrow?"

Oliver smiled she gave him a wink. Maybe he wasn't wrong about her after all.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Sara demanded as Felicity, supported by Oliver, limped her way towards where she and Diggle stood.

"It's just a scratch," Felicity tried, but couldn't cover the wince as Oliver shifted sides to help her sit down. "Stupid glass from the explosion."

"Explosion?" Sara croaked, looking between the two of them frantically. "How-? Oliver Queen?"

"Hello Sara." To his credit, his award winning poker face remained in place. The shock at seeing Laurel's runaway baby sister barely brushed the surface of the last few hours. "It's good to see you again."

"What happened?" John asked now, stepping forward as Oliver moved back from where Felicity sat.

Diggle could see the blood on Felicity's black pants, coating the fabric and making it cling to her skin. The cut was superficial, he guessed, but the glass must have nicked her at just the right angle. "Can I?"

"Be my guest." Felicity waved, only slightly dizzy from the blood loss and frigid temperatures. "It's not every day that I get manhandled by twogorgeous men."

"What happened?" Sara asked, this time in a softer tone.

"As she was grabbing that stupid egg, a motion sensor went off." Oliver explained, his eyes on Diggle and Felicity.

Felicity smiled before producing said egg from a hidden pouch at her side. Sara shook her head while Felicity could only smile. "At least I got it."

"Damn it," Sara cursed, leaning forward to see where John was working. "How did this even happen?"

"I didn't have much time, so I improvised." Oliver informed the group but turned to face her.

Sara let her hands fall to her hips, her concern for her friend spilling over. "By swinging her out of a window?"

"He saved my life." Felicity spoke up behind Oliver causing a slow burning warmth to spread through his veins.

Sara looked to Oliver before running her eyes over what he was wearing. He watched as she shifted her gaze to the green hooded jacket still draped over Felicity's shoulders and then back to him.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She sputtered. "You're the Arrow?"

"Guess you're not the only one with secrets." He stood a little straighter. "Hey, how is your family doing by the way?"

Sara's mouth curled into a frown, her eyes narrowing in on him. "That's a low blow coming from someone who used to sleep around on my sister!"

"Says the girl who ran away from home to become a jewel thief"

"Do not even compare us, Ollie. What I am doing and what you have done to my sister are not the same thing at all."

"No you're right. I used to treat your sister like crap and walked all over her for years, which if I recall, you took part in." Oliver spat. "But you just up and left, letting your family fear the worst had happened to you. All the while you've been gallivanting around the globe stealing from people."

Sara cursed, running a hand through her mussed hair before repeating her earlier sentiment, but this time her words seemed more desperate. "How could this have happened?"

"What?" Oliver asked. There were a million things that had happened that warranted that same question.

"No one was there," Diggle announced, glancing over his shoulder at Oliver. "The warehouse was empty."

"What?" Felicity voiced. Her voice was more alert than before.

Sara seemed to zero in on Felicity, a morose tone to her voice. "We got played."

"But Floyd was supposed to be there, we were supposed to rescue him and," Felicity paused to catch her breath as John placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We did not just rob the fracking Bratva for no reason!"

"Hey," he murmured, soft and even. "Just take a breath."

Felicity nodded while closing her eyes. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Oliver?" Diggle stood to his feet while turning to face him. "Why don't you and Sara go talk over there while I work on Miss Smoak?"

Oliver heard the question but saw the look his partner was giving him. It was one that told Oliver he needed Felicity calm so he could look at her leg. He and Sara weren't making her calm.

Diggle watched as Oliver moved toward the other end of the warehouse, while Sara moved to Felicity's side. She placed her hand on Felicity's shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze. The anger and fury she had just been hurling at Oliver now morphed into care and worry. She was a completely different person.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Sara asked, her voice low. "You weren't supposed to get hurt on this one."

Felicity shook her head as she laid a hand over Sara's. "I promise."

Sara nodded before moving towards where Oliver stood. Diggle presumed they would pick up in their argument as Oliver didn't take well to surprises, no matter what his face portrayed.

"So," Felicity trilled as he turned around to face her. "You're big."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him before he bent to his knees to gain a better visual of her injury.

"Name's John Diggle." He told her, a smirk still on his face.

"I know who you are. I did my research when I was in Starling City. Although I always referred to you as Oliver's shadow. Makes less sense now that I know what he does for a living." She seemed to be talking more to herself at the end before redirecting her attention back to him. "Felicity Smoak, although I'm guessing you already knew that, too."

Diggle nodded before moving the fabric of her pants to try and get a better visual. "I'm going to have to cut through these if I'm going to get that glass out."

Felicity nodded, worry written in her eyes. "I don't usually get an offer like that … ever. But if it'll save the leg, then by all means." Her voice shook as she spoke despite her attempt at humor.

"You ok?" He asked.

The foundry was a quiet place, when Tommy wasn't there. Oliver didn't talk much and Roy was in and out. Hearing Felicity ramble, and Sara argue, had been the most conversation he had out on a mission.

"Yeah, I just babble when I'm nervous, or in awkward situations," Felicity went on. "So this is really normal for me."

John nodded as he reached for the scissors in the first aid pack. He watched Felicity's eyes double in size as he brought them closer to her pants.

"Sorry, aren't you going to numb the area?" Felicity asked, jumping slightly as he brought the scissors closer to her knee. "Usually with injuries such as these, the area is numbed."

Diggle raised his eyes to meet hers. "I'm just cutting your pant leg."

Felicity nodded. "Yeah, but that might hurt."

"If I do my job right it won't."

"Well what's your percentage of good outcomes?" Felicity asked, her eyes still wide. "Where did you go to medical school?"

He couldn't help the laugh playing at his lips. "Army, Special Forces."

"So you've seen a lot worse than this?" This time he only nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally this jittery. I handled being shot way better than a piece of glass in my leg."

"You were shot?" He would admit it was slightly impressive, yet also scary to think of the blonde before him in such a dangerous world.

He didn't know what he was expecting when it came to Felicity Smoak, but the young woman in front of him sure wasn't it. She was funny, and had an honest expression as she spoke. She was young too, yet mature. He knew her age from her file, but after seeing her and listening to her talk he felt an odd urge to protect her.

"In the shoulder." She told him, a hint of pride in her voice. "I got in the way. It's one of the reason's I stay behind a computer for the most part. I'm the tech wiz, Sara's the one who normally does the stunt work."

"But you weren't behind a computer when you stole the earrings in Starling City." He challenged

"Like I said," she pointed out. "For the most part."

"Ok, I'm going to numb the area now." He held a pointed expression which only brought a smile to her face. "It looks like the bleeding stopped, but I don't want to take any chances."

"Good, I don't like chances." He shook his head as she seemed to relax.

He worked in silence, the murmurs of Oliver and Sara's more heated conversation reaching them in the distance. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but from the tones he heard, he would bet it was an argument. He focused on the injury in front of him, taking care to numb the area (much to Miss Smoak's pleasure), remove the glass, and taking care to clean the surrounding skin and wound. He caught Felicity wince out of the corner of his eye as he continued to clear out the cut. Antibiotics would have been good at that moment, who knew what else got caught in the cut during the explosion.

Felicity spoke up, bringing his attention back to her. "You're a good man, John Diggle."

"You can call me Dig." He told her after a beat, more than happy to drown out the argument in the corner.

"Then you can call me Felicity." John nodded, a small smile playing at his lips, as he began to take out different forms of pain relief. Not knowing Felicity's preference, he figured it was better to play it safe.

He picked his head up to study her. "Not the Oracle?"

"Aww, so you know about that." It wasn't a question, of course he knew about her alias. If he was able to find out her name, she assumed he knew about the Oracle.

He held up two oxycodone's in one hand and a syringe with a small dose of morphine in the other. "Oh, god definitely the pills." She winced as she took them in her hands, glancing at the inscription on the side, before popping them in her mouth.

Diggle looked back down at where he worked, about to stitch up the wound. "I'm sure Oliver already asked you this, but how did you end up in this line of work?"

"He asked." She agreed. "It's a long, complicated story, but all in all, it's my way of trying to help people."

"By stealing from them?" He asked, doing his best to keep the judgement from his tone.

"You wouldn't understand."

"I allied myself with Oliver when he was still putting arrows into people." He stood by Oliver, helped him try a new method of saving the city. Some would say that the path they took wasn't as black and white as they made it out to be. "Try me."

"Why do you want to know my story so much?"

"Because he," Diggle said with a tip of his head towards where Oliver stood. "Is very close to trusting you, no matter how much I argue. If we are going to trust you on this, then I need to know why."

Felicity didn't respond, but Diggle noted her eyes glance in the direction of Oliver and Sara before shifting back to him. There was something about her, about the way she kept looking over at Oliver. At first he assumed she was trying to keep tabs on Sara, but then realized her eyes kept following him wherever he went.

Her hands still clung to the green leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders. If Diggle didn't know any better he would assume the younger girl was smitten.

"Ok, how are things over here?" Oliver interrupted.

"Good," Diggle glanced to see Oliver before looking back down at the final stitch. "Just getting to know each other."

"Felicity, why don't you give me the egg?" He asked, looking at where Felicity sat on the makeshift table. "I'll take it back to Anatoli."

"No." Her voice was firm and did not waver in her challenge.

Diggle guessed that if she weren't being stitched up she would have been toe to toe with Oliver.

"What?" Oliver drawled out.

Diggle could tell he was trying to reign in his frustration at her refusal as Oliver dragged both hands against the sides of his temples down to grasp his neck. First Sara, and now Felicity.

"This egg is the only way we are getting Floyd back." Felicity looked directly at Sara this time.

"Who's Floyd?" Diggle asked, leaning back away from where he finished.

Both men looked between the two women, trying to gauge their expressions.

"He's like family, and the Triad took him so we would do the job." Sara's voice was weary. It was probably due to the combination of the night and her conversation with Oliver. "But Felicity, if they already crossed us then you have to know keeping the egg won't work anymore."

"We could still offer them a trade." Felicity tried, holding the jacket tighter in her free hand.

"Felicity, there was gunfire when we were swinging out of the room. More than just Bratva defending themselves gunfire." Oliver tried this time, his voice low and soothing. "Trust me, the Triad isn't interested in a trade."

"I'm not giving up on Floyd." Diggle could see her resolve was firm. He didn't know the woman that well but he could tell she was stubborn. She was also hurting. He saw the pain in her face at the thought of not saving their friend.

He imagined he would react in similar form if it was Oliver, or one of the other guys. You don't leave a brother behind.

But there was something about the name that seemed to click in his mind. Something about the entire Russia situation seemed off. The picture of Deadshot flashed through his mind, the one on Anatoli's wall, the one they ruled out because he was spotted elsewhere around the globe, and not in Triad custody, where 'Floyd' was supposed to be.

"Who is Floyd?" Diggle asked, ice beginning to creep through his veins. He saw Oliver's look of realization, making the same conclusion he just did.

"Tell me you don't mean Floyd Lawton." He didn't give either Sara or Felicity a chance to respond but saw their reactions. He saw the way both of them recognized the name, the name of the man who killed his brother and countless others. "The man you are trying to save is Deadshot?"

"Dig," Oliver stepped forward, his voice firm.

"No!" His voice rose and he watched as Felicity jumped on the table where she sat. "Oliver, I've been party to some crazy ass stunts of yours but I draw the line at helping Deadshot."

"How do you even know him?" Sara asked, her voice low, but still held an air of fearlessness.

"John, just take a walk." Oliver told him, his friend knowing that the subsequent conversation would hit quite a few sore spots.

Of course it would. Lawton killed his brother before disappearing. He nearly killed Diggle and got away, again. The man was a murderer and an assassin. He should be locked away for his crimes, punished for the lives he took. Yet he still ran free, and was now helped by these two.

So he did the only think he could. He walked away. He took a breath. He tried to put the man with one eye out of his mind as he heard Oliver relay in the distance, "Floyd Lawton killed his brother."

* * *

Felicity stared at the man who had only twenty minutes prior had been stitching up her leg. The same man who laughed at her stupid jokes and who, for all his distrust, was nice to her. John Diggle seemed like a nice man.

She already knew that though. Her research prior to the Queen Job included a thorough background check on John Diggle, head of Blackhawk Security – the main security company in use by the Queen family. She knew all about his service record, his marriage, his divorce, his re-marriage (to the same woman), and his brother.

What she hadn't known was the role her mentor allegedly played in John's tragedy. It was all too much to take in.

"You don't believe them, right?" She whispered, glancing at Sara who was handcuffed to the chair beside her. "Floyd wouldn't have killed innocent people."

Oliver had taken the egg back to the Bratva, and with it their last shred of hope of getting Floyd back. Before he left, John made a note of being 'outnumbered,' and while he had taken Sara down with a swift knock to the head fairly easily, he didn't think either should be trusted. Oliver reluctantly handcuffed both Felicity and Sara to their chairs with the promise of releasing them once more when he returned.

"I don't know what to believe right now." Felicity studied her friend.

Sara's brow was furrowed in concentration, as if she was trying to solve a difficult math problem. Felicity never made that face, math was easy for her, like computers. Sara would usually struggle with the math for a bit before turning to her friend.

But Felicity had a feeling this concentration wasn't about a math problem. "You haven't killed anyone, have you?"

Sara stopped and turned to meet Felicity's eyes. "Yeah I have a body count as wide and deep as this warehouse," she deadpanned.

"You are dating an assassin." Felicity whistled. "I wonder if Nyssa ever met Floyd."

Sara rolled her eyes before scrunching her face once more. "I'm pretty sure it's not some sort of club."

"Well for Nyssa it's a family business." Nyssa made Felicity nervous from the minute they made contact with her in Prague.

Sara had been intrigued by the assassin, and seemed to melt every time she opened her mouth to speak. Felicity, however, had begged Sara not to take the job, something hadn't seemed right with the woman whose extracurricular activities had not been known at that point. Yet, Sara still went along with the all too dangerous job.

She nearly got killed, and Felicity then proceeded to scream at one of the most people on the planet, via comms for being reckless. It wasn't until another near miss when Nyssa whipped out the super fighting skills that Felicity began to realize just who they were dealing with. The truth had not put her at ease.

"I thought we were not judging my girlfriend." Sara paused what she had been doing, which Felicity assumed was trying to get out of the handcuffs.

"I'm not." Felicity defended. She would never judge Nyssa, but she would be terrified that the woman could eat her alive. "I'm just wondering if she knew all along who we kept company with."

"Whether she did or not, then she would have had a reason for keeping it from me." Sara huffed in frustration. "How's your leg?"

Felicity wondered if Sara had thought about any of that yet - If Nyssa had known the truth all along. She assumed it didn't make her partner feel comfortable knowing that Nyssa could have been holding potentially serious information away from her.

"The pain medicine hasn't worn off yet, so it feels great." Felicity diverted, accepting the change in subject. "I'm sure that will change in an hour or so."

"I can't believe he threw you out of a window." Felicity turned to see Sara's face morph into one of disapproval.

Finding out her ex-whatever had turned out to be the Starling City vigilante couldn't have been easy for Sara. Knowing their past, and how complicated it was, Felicity could understand where Sara's fury came from.

"He was trying to help, and he didn't throw me out of it." While she could understand Sara's emotions, she did not share them. Oliver was a good man. "So you're mad at Oliver for saving my life, but you're not mad at Floyd for killing people?"

"I'm just thinking about how we are going to get out of this." Sara said, her handcuffs rattling as she tried to move her wrists. "And yes, I am mad. I am furious that I let my guard down all those years ago and trusted someone who offered to help me. I am a cop's daughter who should have known better."

"It's not your fault. He tricked us both." Felicity told her, wishing she could give Sara some comfort, but failing to find any words of wisdom, only questions. "Do you think he was working with the Triad on this?"

Sara didn't answer. She didn't have one for this. Neither of them did. The possible answer could tear their worlds even further apart. Knowing that Floyd was a killer was one thing, but believing that he could have been behind the set up? It was just too much.

"How are you holding up?" Sara asked after a generous pause. "And don't say fine. Floyd took us both in, but you had the stronger bond with him."

"What? He was both of our mentors." Felicity jolted.

"No, he was my mentor." Sara's voice was soothing as she spoke. "For you he was like a father. Finding out he lied to you can't be easy."

"It's not… the same thing." She didn't want to admit how right Sara could be.

Floyd wasn't her father but Felicity couldn't deny how on some occasions she looked up to him like one. In the beginning she looked for his approval when creating plans and executing surveillance. She looked to him for guidance and counsel. He would tell her the wildest stories of his time serving in the military and his smuggling operation in Corto Maltese. He would listen to her ramble about MIT and her work on Wall Street with pride shining bright in his eyes.

It made sense. From a psychological stand point at least. She didn't really remember her father and her mother had just passed when Floyd entered her life. It was an emotional time where all she wanted was family. Floyd gave her that.

"No, but it feels like it, doesn't it?" Sara knew. She was there for all of it, and watched Felicity become attached.

Felicity wondered if she hadn't been so desperate for a lifeline, hadn't just lost her mother, hadn't been so bitter would she have accepted Floyd's offer. Would she have felt the need to create this family which now was tarnished?

Felicity turned her gaze to John Diggle. She wondered when Floyd killed his brother, and why. Had she and Sara been with him at that point?

"What do you think is going to happen with them?" She thought aloud.

"They will probably take us back to the states where we will then be turned over to the police, our identities revealed, and then sent to a nice maximum security prison." Sara groaned, but Felicity heard the pain in her voice.

Felicity's identity being revealed didn't really matter. She was no one, and had no one but Sara. The truth of what she did everyday wouldn't affect anyone.

"Meaning your family will get dragged through the mud." Felicity filled in the blank.

"Or worse." Sara's tone was dark, her meaning not lost on Felicity.

Her eyes lit with understanding. "You don't think the Triad will go after them, do you?"

"I don't see why not." Sarah shrugged before going back to focus on her handcuffs. "We failed, they double crossed us, it doesn't matter why, it just matters that we know more than we should."

Felicity didn't know the Lance family, but she knew that Sara loved them. She knew that Sara would do anything to protect her family, even from herself. Felicity couldn't let her friend lose her family, not because of this.

"I guess we better figure out a plan then," Felicity said, meeting Sara's eyes.

Sara sighed as she let her hands fall useless to the arms of the chair. "I've been trying to think of a plan, but the handcuffs are limiting."

"Oh those," Felicity said with a shrug, bringing both her hands up in a shrug.

"How long have you been sitting there out of your handcuffs?" Sara asked in disbelief.

"Since about thirty seconds after Oliver put them on." Felicity winked at Sara. "When have handcuffs ever given me a hard time?"

Sara bit her lip to hold back a laugh she was sure would attract John. "Well what are you waiting for? Let's blow this popsicle stand."


	10. The Escape

**AN: I can't tell you how much I appreciate and love your comments and follows/favs on this fic. It makes me so happy to see others enjoying this fic as much as I love writing it. Seriously, you're all amazing and have given me so much inspiration when it comes to this fic. THANK YOU!**

**This chapter is a little shorter, mainly for the cliffhanger at the end. My sincere apologies. But I am already hard at work on the next chapter and I do promise that a major player is about to enter the scene (next chapter) that I have gotten quite a few questions about.**

* * *

_**Chapter 9: The Escape**_

"_Let's blow this popsicle stand_?" Felicity mimicked. "Really?"

Sara cocked her head to the side with a laugh. "What? You always say cute things like that."

"Yeah, but not on purpose." Felicity shuddered, suddenly self-conscious. "Do I really sound like that?"

"Felicity," Sara enunciated. "Handcuffs."

Felicity rolled her eyes before glancing over her shoulder at where John Diggle sat. He was focused on the laptop screen in front of him which made Felicity wonder what he was looking at. Maybe he wasn't even paying attention to the computer. Knowing that the man who killed his brother was potentially involved in their current predicament must have been altering.

She felt for him.

"Felicity," Sara hissed, dragging her back to the present moment.

Felicity began working the lock with the paperclip she always kept in her pocket. No one ever thought to check for a paperclip.

Without even raising from her seat, Felicity was able to twist the spring of the lock with ease. One click later and the lock released, freeing Sara's left hand.

"Here, I'll get the other one," Sara paused as she held her hand out, palm up. "If you try to do it, he'll see for sure."

Felicity gave a silent nod before shifting her gaze back to where John sat, immobile. She knew Sara was right. Once they all returned to Starling it would only be a matter of time before Oliver and John turned them over to the police. They were trying to do the right thing.

But there was still time to change their mind. Sara and Felicity, together, could still alter the outcome. They didn't have to go to jail.

They could work together with Oliver and John. They didn't have to run.

"Sara," Felicity whispered. "Are you sure we should be doing this?"

Sara looked up in confusion, her concentration still etched in her furrowed brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the Triad already know our identities. What's to stop them from coming after your family whether we are outed, or not?" The logic of their situation hadn't been lost on Felicity.

No matter which option they took the Triad was going to prove to be a difficulty. There was no way around this now.

But Sara was her friend, her sister. If Sara wanted to run, she would follow her.

"Are you saying you want to let Oliver and his friend turn us in?" She must not have been expecting Felicity's change of stance as she narrowed her eyes. "Absolutely not."

"Sara," Felicity tried but was halted by Sara's objection.

"Listen, the Triad has no reason to go after them right now. All we do is get out of here, contact Chien, and go from there." Sara tried. "Right now, we are their only problem. Once we bring the police into this, their problem gets bigger."

"And you thought my plan was stupid?" Felicity muttered under her breath.

"Felicity," Sara turned on her, affronted.

"No." Felicity's voice was strong for a whisper. "Either way we are screwed, but why not be screwed back home where you can at least see your family and maybe have a decent shot at protecting them?" She knew Sara missed her family. She knew how much it hurt Sara to be away from them, even if it was her own choice. "Oliver seems like he can help at least."

"Do you hear yourself?" Sara asked. "Felicity, it's too dangerous. If the Triad even thinks we've told the police anything, my family is who suffers."

Maybe it was her time spent with Floyd and on the opposite side of the law that caused Sara to be resistant to actually following it. Maybe it was pure fear that made Sara hesitant to use the only logical resource they had. Felicity knew that Oliver and his friend, Mr. Diggle, could help. They only had to convince them to.

"And that's where these guys can help."

"Felicity, I'm getting out of here, and you can either come with me, or go to Starling City to get thrown in prison." Sara challenged. "I'm not going to force you, but I'd hope you'd come with me."

Felicity stared at Sara, her friend, her sister. This was the woman who did everything in her power to protect Felicity, who helped train her. Floyd took Felicity in, but Sara kept her.

Could she really go against her now? Her heart at war with the logic in her head, and she already knew which she would side with.

"Ok … but we should hurry, before they outnumber us."

"You mean before your boyfriend gets back and you start making googly eyes again." Felicity pressed her lips into a thin line, not amused at Sara's timing or choice of joke.

"Sorry." Sara winced before changing the subject. "You make a run for the door at the back, while I distract him."

Felicity gave a nod before glancing back to John once more. Once she did this, she couldn't take it back and all the bad things he must have thought about her would become true. She didn't know why his opinion of her mattered so much to her.

But it did, and once they ran, he wouldn't think much of her.

"On my mark," Sara stated. "One …" Felicity glanced back at the door, a clear shot away. "Two …" Sara could take care of Mr. Diggle. "Go."

Her voice was no louder than a whisper, but it felt as though it echoed through the almost empty warehouse. Like a gunshot to her heart, Felicity felt a surge of adrenaline propelling her out of her chair and towards the exit door.

She hadn't made it far when she heard Diggle's rushed "Damn it," along with the slapping of metal, probably his chair or Sara's against the concrete floor.

"Go, go, go!" She heard Sara yell behind her.

She knew better than to turn around, lest she fall or trip over something, Felicity kept running until she slammed into the door. Finding the handle was its own misadventure but after her handed searched frantically, she found it and pulled hard.

With one last breath, she threw herself out of the door and into the frigid night.

* * *

"Damn it!" Diggle heard the motion behind him, felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to stand at attention.

They were trying to escape. They got out of the handcuffs. _Damn it_, Oliver sure knew how to pick em.

Diggle turned in a flash as Felicity ran, with a slight limp he imagined would hurt her later, towards the back door. Sara was advancing on him with a look of determination on her face.

Not wanting to be the one to shoot Laurel Lance's sister, or have to be the one to explain that to a clueless Tommy, Diggle ejected the magazine from his glock just before Sara brought a metal pipe down towards his head.

Diggle let the gun fall to the floor and brought both hands up to block the eventual blow while gripping the pipe with one hand and swinging it, and her, in a circular motion. Sara took that motion to her advantage and landed a solid kick to his side, loosening his grip on the pipe.

With a grunt, Diggle blocked another attempt by Sara and her pipe. This time she aimed for his abdomen.

Diggle jabbed right and crossed left, landing at least one punch before Sara hooked one of her own, connecting with his nose with a shuddering crack.

The pain and cool rush of blood, from his now injured nose, distracted him long enough for Sara to give a swift swipe to his knees, effectively knocking him to the ground.

"Don't look for us," Sara told him breathless.

And just like that she was gone. The side door to the warehouse slamming shut with a bang, leaving him alone.

* * *

Felicity didn't stop running until her lungs began to burn and her feet began to ache. Sara told her to run and that was what she did. Felicity made no secret of her lack of enthusiasm for physical training, no matter how hard Sara persisted.

Felicity could be clumsy, and sometimes uncoordinated. To her that added up to a bad experience. Usually it meant Felicity landed on her ass, or her face, two or three times a lesson.

Sara would promise to go easy on her, but Felicity never hesitated to say 'no.' She would stick to her forty minutes on an elliptical – to which Sara would reply "we don't have an elliptical."

Felicity cursed herself as she began to slow, the pain in her injured leg flaring to life. It was as if her leg was giving her a not-so gentle reminder that she had been flung through a window early that evening.

She knew she had to find the train station, though. The cold of Russia didn't seem to let up either. If anything, it was even colder from the last time she had been outside. At least then she had been wearing Oliver's jacket to help keep the bitter feeling away.

Felicity paused in her movements to look back towards the direction from where she came. Oliver probably wouldn't forgive her after this. When she stole the earrings from him she at least had the excuse of not knowing him, and not owing him her life. This time was different.

This time she ran away from a man who she knew to be a good person. Being around Oliver hadn't changed the feeling of normalcy that rose up within her each time she thought of him. The feeling he brought out in her. She had never felt that before.

He made her smile without even trying, he took care of her when she was hurt, he frustrated her, and he pushed her buttons like no one else.

With him, though, it all felt _right._

And she just ran away from it.

Felicity looked back towards the warehouse, ducking her head as a car passed her. She couldn't go back now, though. Sara needed her to see this through.

* * *

The train station was busy, which she assumed was normal. Normal train stations in big cities were crowded fairly regularly. They anticipated this, practically depended on it. It was the perfect place to blend in and not be found.

After disappearing through the side door of the warehouse, feeling regretful for having to break John's nose, Sara made her way through Moscow's streets until she could find the train station. She and Felicity set his up as their rendezvous point weeks ago, and planned their trip to the minute.

The double-cross inhibited their plan only in the smallest of ways. They missed their original train, but there would be another one in twenty minutes.

All she needed now was Felicity.

"You know, you're very conspicuous in all that black." Felicity's too chipper voice sounded off behind her. Talk about timing.

Sara turned to see Felicity walk towards her in a burgundy winter coat, knee high black boots, and a black cloche hat. She could see the limp Felicity wore also, even though she tensed her jaw each time she stepped. Felicity didn't want Sara to know how bad she was hurting, probably.

"You changed?"

Felicity shrugged before tossing a black bag to Sara. "You should, too."

Sara unzipped the bag to find the clothes she packed yesterday before dropping their belongings into a locker in the terminal. All part of the plan.

"There's less eyes just outside. It's an old utility shed, I think." Felicity began to swipe at her tablet, not making eye contact. "The ladies restroom was full of nosey gossips who couldn't help but stare as soon as I walked in."

"Sounds about right." Sara nodded, moving towards the exit with Felicity on her heels.

"But we're going to have to hurry if we want to make the next train to Paris."

Sara nodded again without turning back. She heard the slight bite in Felicity's tone and knew her friend well enough to leave it alone. For now.

They had plenty of time on the train to air out any grievances and get back on the same page. There would be more than enough time to figure out how to go against the Triad and how to clean up this mess. Maybe they could even rescue Floyd, which was the original agenda.

It was well past time to get some answers from the man who trained her.

But first, they needed to focus on minimizing the Triad's influence. She knew there was a syndicate in Starling, which was half of the reason she hadn't wanted to go back there. Keeping distance from her family would protect them.

Sara knew she couldn't do this alone, even if she had Felicity on her side, they were still outnumbered. Oliver and Diggle were too focused on being heroes to see the big picture on this one.

She needed the only person, besides Felicity, she could trust on this. She needed someone who would protect her family the same way she would.

With a glance over her shoulder to see Felicity engrossed in her tablet and not paying her any mind, Sara slipped around the corner of the shed. The burner phone she kept in her go-bag was right where she left it, tucked into the right shoe of her low boots.

She dialed the number she committed to memory last month before lifting the phone to her ear. A silent prayer was sent into the ether that the person whose voice she needed to hear would answer. She would know exactly what to do.

But the ringing of the phone kept playing until a resounding 'beep' told Sara she wouldn't be speaking with her beloved. Not this time.

"Hey, it's me," Sara whispered, cringing at how weak her voice sounded. "I wish I was calling for a better reason than I am. One like, I miss you and I need to see you, which is true but not in the way I wish it were. We, Felicity and I, are in trouble…" Sara paused. "I messed up, and I know you told me not to call on this number, but I need you, Nyssa." Sara paused to glance over where Felicity stood. "_We_ need you. And you know I wouldn't ask if…"

The sound of crunching gravel caused Sara to pause. She moved around the corner, phone held low in her hand to put eyes on Felicity. She didn't seem to notice anything, happily swiping away on her tablet. It must have been her imagination.

As Sara turned back to her call she her the click before she felt it.

An immediate sensation of pain ripped through her abdomen. It was a blinding flare of agony, causing her to cry out before crumpling to the ground, her phone falling only inches away.

"Felicity." Sara tried to warn her but failed as the pain choked her into a tortured whisper.

The pain in her abdomen brought on a cold sweat across her brow, her world tilting on its edge. This was happening quicker than she thought it would.

She had been grazed before, once or twice on jobs early on in her career, but this was new. She never knew a gunshot to feel this nauseating. It was like her whole body was on fire and it was all she could do to not scream out in pain.

Sara cradled her stomach, the feel of a thick, slippery liquid coating her hands. It was coming too fast. _It was all too fast_.

"Sara?" She saw Felicity round the corner, but her vision began to blur. "Sara?! Oh God!"

She tried to keep her eyes open, tried to tell Felicity not to run to her. She knew the gunman was still behind her. Felicity needed to run in the opposite direction, not towards her.

All Sara could do was watch Felicity run towards her as the darkness began to take her.

* * *

Oliver let the handcuffs in his hand fall to the floor with a dull thud. He was still having a difficult time wrapping his head around the fact that Felicity and Sara escaped. He lost Felicity, and Sara, _again_.

"You ok, man?" He heard Diggle behind him.

Oliver wondered if the eventual 'I told you so,' would make its way to the forefront of the conversation. Diggle had been quiet ever since he told Oliver what had happened. In part due to the swelling of his nose, and in part due to the feeling of failure. Although Oliver would never blame Dig for this, he knew his friend blamed himself.

"I can't believe we lost them, again." Oliver wiped his hands off on his jeans before rising to his full height. "You ok? That looks like it hurts."

"I've had worse. I don't think it's even broken." Diggle gave a nod, the ice pack still placed against his swollen nose, before turning to look around their temporary base of operations. "It's not your fault, Oliver."

Oliver watched as John turned back, a look of dismay in his own eyes. "It's not yours, either."

"You should have seen them. That Sara can sure pack a punch," Diggle said, a tone of pride, maybe, ringing in his voice. "Maybe if I didn't react that way to Lawton's name," he paused as the name swirled around in his mouth, his face distorting at the bitterness he felt. "Maybe we could have at least got them back to Starling."

Oliver shook his head, pursing his lips. "The news that Deadshot was involved could have come at a better time, but I don't think we could have kept tabs on them for long."

"Well they can't run forever." John moved to the chair Felicity had been sitting in, a heavy expression gracing his features. "We'll get them back, it's only a matter of time."

Oliver stared at his friend, a guarded expression hollowing out his own features. He had only been gone for a half hour and things still went to hell. He succeeded in clearing them with Anatoli and taking any heat from the Bratva away from them. Why couldn't they had just trusted them?

"She just didn't seem all that interested in turning herself in, you know?" Oliver answered his unspoken question.

"Felicity?" John asked.

"When we were in the woods, trying to get back here, she just kept fighting." She had been so frustrating, so obstinate when they first started out. He could see a stubborn streak a mile wide as they disagreed. "I just thought she was being bull headed."

"And now?" John asked, sensing a 'but' coming on.

"Watching the way she and Sara were with each other, and how she tried to fight for Deadshot," Oliver shook his head. "She was never going to let us take her, or Sara, willingly. Was she?"

"Don't beat yourself up over it, man." John told him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Lyla used to rebuff me like that too."

"What?"

"She used to fight me on everything," John paused to think. "Well not fight me, but challenge me. She would always know exactly what buttons to push and how to push them."

"What are you saying?" Oliver felt an exhaustion come over him as she felt himself fall back into Sara's chair. That must have been it because he was not making the leap from Felicity running away to Diggle's wife.

"When I met Lyla I wasn't prepared for her." Dig explained. "I wasn't prepared for what it all meant, to find that person. I damn near lost her when we came home."

"Well, you did get a divorce."

"But we found our way back together." Diggle told him with a pointed, yet serene expression in his eyes. "If I had been ready, if I hadn't been trying to fight any war I could find, I wouldn't have lost all that time with her."

Oliver knew Diggle had come a far way. He was someone Oliver hoped to be, one day. He had the family, the self awareness Oliver lacked, and the ability to put his past into perspective.

Yet Oliver still could not make the connection.

"Not that I don't enjoy hearing about your marriage but, is there a point to this?"

"Give it time, Queen." Oliver didn't understand the humored expression on John's face. "Girl's just not ready yet."

"Since when are you team me and Felicity?" He guessed. "You've done nothing but say how bad of an idea it was since we met her." Oliver challenged.

This time Diggle didn't say anything, but merely shook his head. "What did Anatoli say when you gave him the egg back?"

Apparently, they were changing the subject now.

"He just shook his head," Oliver said as he moved to stand from the chair. "Said he had a feeling I would pull through."

"You're a good foot soldier," Diggle teased.

"Funny." No matter how backwards this trip had turned out, at least he had Diggle. "He also told me that the Bratva wouldn't take this attack laying down."

"Did we expect anything less?"

"At least they aren't sure who stole it." Oliver winced at what he was about to tell his friend.

He was sure John wouldn't have approved of the way he chose to handle the situation or the method he used to get Felicity and Sara off of the Bratva's radar.

"And I played it off as though the man in the green hood tried to steal it."

He watched as Diggle's face lit up in frustration before he shook his head in dismay. "Is that wise? Putting yourself in their cross hairs?"

"Anatoli isn't stupid." He knew that Anatoli knew him well. Almost as well as Diggle did. Anatoli couldn't outright admit _what_ he knew without placing the younger man in danger of his own organization. "He knows more than he lets on, and he knows I wouldn't be the one to steal the egg. He'll trust me."

"Can we bet Felicity and Sara's lives on that?"

Oliver let out an exhausted breath. "We're going to have to right now."

John didn't seem to appreciate that answer as he pushed himself to his feet, giving Oliver one last 'you better be right' look before moving towards the table with their supplies. Oliver knew he was right. Betting Sara and Felicity's lives on the assumption Anatoli would not double cross them was a risk. Especially considering the girls had just been double crossed themselves.

It seemed as if that was the sole lesson in this trip – no one could really be trusted. At least not in the world Sara and Felicity lived in. He wondered, once again, how Felicity ended up doing what she was doing. How did someone as smart and capable as her become a thief on the wrong side of the Triad? Why wouldn't she let him help her?

"Hey, man," Diggle's voice caught his attention. "Phone's vibrating."

Oliver moved to pick up his phone which he deposited on a corner shelf after coming in to find Diggle holding a towel to his nose. He hadn't been too focused on anything besides what had happened to his partner.

"Queen," he answered, not recognizing the number which was calling his personal phone.

There was a rustling on the other end and a lot of heavy breathing.

_Great_, Oliver thought. Tommy must have decided their trip could use a little prank calling. "Hello? Tommy?"

As Oliver was turning to let Dig in on the prank he heard a whimper over the other end.

"Oliver?" It was Felicity.

Her voice sounded choked with tears.

"Felicity?" He asked urgently. He knew it was her but he couldn't believe she was using his number, or that she even had it. "Felicity, I'm here!"

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, her voice shaking as she spoke. "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, even though she couldn't see him, as Dig came to stand at his side. "Felicity, it's ok. Just tell me where you are."

"I'm sorry," she cried once more. "Sara, I'm sorry."

He felt a desperation begin to claw at the base of his neck. It was an instinct honed over several years of dangerous situations. "Felicity, I need you to listen to me." He heard her audibly gulp on the other end, her whimpering growing faint. "Where are you?"

"We're at the … train station," she said. He heard her try to stabilize her voice. "Sara was shot."

Oliver cursed before turning to Dig so he could signal they needed to move, and bring supplies with them. Diggle must have overheard as he was already headed towards the table, a look of determination set in his brow. He wasn't sure how bad it was, but considering the circumstances he assumed pretty bad.

"Felicity, I need you to stay on the line, ok?" Oliver tried as he shrugged into his brown leather jacket. "I need to hear your voice."

"There's so much blood," he heard her cry.

He heard her panic and felt it as if it were his own. Only a few minutes and he would be with her. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Diggle began throwing gauze and various items in a bag before zipping it closed.

"We're on our way." He promised, Diggle already two steps ahead of him.

* * *

"Felicity!" Oliver didn't care how loud he was as he ran through the seemingly empty train yard, following the directions Felicity gave him.

She had managed to tell him they were outside, behind an old shed. Her teeth were chattering and her sobbing had slowed before stopping all together, which only made him more nervous. Diggle had broken, what Oliver imagined, at least a dozen traffic violations, but neither cared.

By the time they rounded the corner, with at least five sheds in his line of site, Oliver felt his nerves only double. Felicity had been talking to them on the phone but stopped as they pulled into the empty lot.

What if she had been hurt too? What if the adrenaline of helping her friend caused her to ignore a potentially fatal wound?

He felt an overwhelming fear grip his heart and threaten to squeeze. He needed to see her.

"Oliver, over here!" Diggle yelled, a yard or so behind him.

He hadn't been looking and ran past where the shed let in to a small walkway. It was barely visible.

"Felicity," Diggle urged as he dropped to his knees beside her. He carefully felt Sara's neck to find her pulse, a look of relief washing over him when he did.

Her hands were stained red while her eyes stayed focused on their task, ignoring their arrival. She held a cloth to Sara's wound, now saturated through with Sara's blood, in order to stop the bleeding. _There was so much blood_, Oliver thought. So much blood from a woman he grew up with. Laurel's little sister. Felicity didn't look too much better as stains of red on her cheek and knees stuck out in his view.

"Felicity," he cried out, sinking to his knees beside her, his hands framing her face before he ran them down her shoulders. "Are you hurt? Were you shot?"

"Felicity, let me help." Diggle's voice was soft as he tried to replace her hands. "You take a break."

Felicity shook her head, tears tracing well-worn tracks down her cheeks. It was the first time she acknowledged their presence since they arrive. "I can't let go."

Diggle dipped his head, angling to meet her eyes. "Yes, you can. I'm right here, and I promise I won't let her die."

Oliver watched as she slowly let Diggle replace her hands, murmuring a 'you did good' as he did. He felt his hands squeeze her shoulders of their own accord before he continued to visually inspect her for any wounds of her own.

"I'm fine," she whispered, her voice cracking as she turned to meet his eyes. "Oliver, _please_ help her. She's my family. "

He knew in that moment, hell he probably knew before then, that he would never deny her anything. Staring into her eyes he found a look of haunting innocence deep within. There was so much more to this woman than he ever thought there would be. More than he thought possible after she first tricked him out of millions of dollars. More than he even dared to hope for.

He knew with one hundred percent certainty that if she was the one asking, he would do it – and that terrified him.


	11. The Rescue

_AN: Thank you so, so much to all of you for your kind words and likes/favs. I loved hearing everyone's reactions and reading everyone's thoughts on the chapters. There is a bit of Russian in the chapter, but I sadly do not speak any foreign languages and have to use Google Translate. I greatly apologize to anyone reading who does speak and read Russian. _

_I want to apologize for the longer than normal wait for the chapter. Even though I already have this story mapped out, characters in place, and certain mile markers to hit my muse seemed to rebel. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I hope to hear/read what you think!_

* * *

The ride to the warehouse was short considering the situation. From the moment they arrived and assessed Sara's injuries Diggle had started giving out orders and telling them what to do.

Oliver drove them back to the warehouse while Diggle worked on Sara in the backseat. Felicity tried to clean the quickly drying blood off of her hands while Oliver drove, her hands shaking the entire time.

"You ok?" He asked from his spot in the driver seat, barely able to glance at her.

"I wasn't the one who was shot." She bit out before wincing. He saw out of the corner of his eye as she turned to face him, an apology written on her face. He turned his head and gave her a quick nod before fixing his eyes on the road. "I'm sorry. Is she ok?"

"She's lucky," Diggle told her.

He was breathless and crouched in a somewhat awkward form over the back seat.

Sara was pale and had not regained consciousness. Oliver knew that their next few hours would be critical once they got her back to the warehouse. It wasn't the lair, but it would have to do. No one was too fond of Sara being admitted into a Russian hospital where the questions would be many and incriminating.

She had already lost a lot of blood when they arrived, but Felicity's pressure had helped to slow the bleeding.

"Please explain to me why being shot is '_lucky'_?" Felicity challenged.

"There's an exit wound and her bleeding has almost stopped." Diggle explained, keeping pressure applied to the wound.

"You're going to have to explain that in simpler terms." Felicity shook her head as she tried to understand what he was saying. "I may be a genius, but my medical expertise stops at episodes of General Hospital my mother made me watch when I was a kid."

"The bullet is not still in her body, which is good. It means we don't have to try to find it and remove it." Diggle explained in a succinct manner. "The bleeding having slowed is also good because it lessens the chance of the bullet having hit a major artery in its path, which would have been a lot harder for us to work on."

Felicity took a deep breath as she closed her eyes. "So, lucky."

"Lucky," Oliver assured as he reached across the center console to take her hand in his.

He didn't miss the way Diggle's eyes met his in the rearview mirror. He also didn't miss the silent request in those eyes.

While Sara may have been spared internal injuries, Diggle would still need to check to make sure. There were too many vital organs in her abdomen to risk stitching her up too soon. The chance she could bleed out was slim, but still there. Oliver also knew that, while Diggle had a good deal of field experience, he wasn't a doctor.

Once they were in the warehouse time seemed to speed up as Diggle shouted orders and both Oliver and Felicity complied. Oliver was amazed at how well the three of them worked together.

Felicity seemed to be able to anticipate their instructions before they said them, getting them whatever tool or equipment they needed. If she didn't know the exact instrument, or couldn't find what they requested, she found the next best option. She also proved to be efficient when it came to rigging a makeshift heart monitor which had served to reinforce how intelligent she was. She didn't cower away from the blood either.

His first impression of Felicity, when she had been masquerading as Meghan, had been of a beautiful, intelligent, fearless woman. Felicity Smoak was proving each of those qualities true.

As soon as Oliver parked the car she was out and helping John to carry Sara into the warehouse. Felicity kept her hands firmly pressed against Sara's abdomen while John shifted her friend's weight. Never once did she falter or wince at the sight of the gunshot wound in Sara's abdomen.

To say that both men were impressed was an understatement.

"Damnit!" Oliver jerked his head away from Felicity to see Diggle shoving his gloved hands over Sara's wound as more blood began to escape.

"I thought you said she was ok." Felicity cried, her hands flying to her hairline.

"Oliver, I need a clamp." Diggle called out. "There's too much blood."

"We don't have a clamp." Oliver cursed as he began to tear through their medical bag.

"Оливер, шаг в сторону." A thick Russian accent spoke from the doorway to the warehouse – Anatoly.

Before Oliver had a chance to object Anatoly's command he, and another man with wire rimmed glasses, swept through the warehouse and towards Sara's body. Their thick woolen coats were left on the concrete floors as they pushed up their sleeves and moved Diggle out of the way.

Diggle could only step aside, a confused expression written on his face until he caught sight of Anatoly, while Felicity looked petrified.

"Она потеряла много крови." Oliver watched as Anatoly and the man began to assess her condition. "Пуля , возможно, порезал паслись артерию или внутренний орган."

"Who are they?" Felicity swung her gaze from Oliver to Diggle, fear creeping into her voice. "What are they doing?"

Diggle moved to stand beside Felicity, removing his bloodied gloves in the process. "These are friends."

Oliver nodded, flanking her other side. "I sent Anatoly a message when we got to the warehouse."

"Bratva?" Felicity whispered, accusation in her tone. "You called the fucking _Bratva_?"

"Anatoly has men on hand who are more skilled in bullet wounds than we are." Oliver replied.

"And his men are always discreet."

"How do you know they aren't the ones who shot at us?" Felicity accused, her hand flying in the direction of where the men worked on her friend.

"The Bratva had no reason to go after you." Oliver told her, his voice calm. "They also wouldn't have left you _both_ alive."

"Felicity, trust us." Diggle placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "We won't let anything happen to Sara."

Oliver watched as Felicity's gaze found its way back to where Anatoly and the unknown man worked. Both were concentrating and using equipment they hadn't had. Oliver and Diggle both knew that Anatoly had resources and experiences with bullet wounds who wouldn't ask questions. Oliver was a Captain after all.

"Если бы вы назвать мне раньше мы могли бы очистить нашу комнату хирургического." Anatoly called out, his eyes fixed on Sara's pale form. "Она повезет, если она не поймать инфекцию от крыс."

The man working beside Anatoly chuckled low.

"Почему бы вам не работать, а шутки." Oliver bit out.

"Скажите, Оливер, который эта девушка?" The question was innocent enough, yet he knew Anatoly was well aware of who she was.

"Старый друг семьи." Oliver replied, the memory of a younger Sara flashing through his mind. "Один я не хотел бы потерять."

"Тогда мы будем работать особенно тяжело, чтобы убедиться, что она живет, капитан." Anatoly gave Oliver a small smirk and a wink before turning his focus back on Sara.

"What just happened?" Felicity asked, her panic brewing beneath her words. "Do they know?"

"Shh," Oliver shushed, placing both hands on her shoulders while he turned her around. "They will not know unless you tell them."

Felicity glanced back at Sara, then back at Oliver. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before giving him a shaky nod.

"Anatoly will not let anything happen to her." Oliver promised her. "You are _safe_."

Felicity nodded her understanding before letting herself fall into his side, her head nestled into his chest. Diggle seemed to avert his eyes, staying focused on the men at work. Oliver brought a hand up and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

Once Sara was stabilized and wound dressed as best the men could, considering the circumstances, they were finally able to take a breath. The adrenaline they all felt from the moment Oliver received the frantic phone call from Felicity having dissipated enough to leave them each with varying levels of exhaustion.

"I'm going to go …" Felicity paused to stare at the unconscious Sara, pale but breathing. "I'm going to wash up."

John gave Felicity a warm smile and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder as she passed by. His sign of a job well done. Felicity reciprocated his smile before turning and walking the rest of the way to the corner restroom, wringing her hands as she went.

She paused in front of Anatoly and the man with the glasses and seemed to contemplate her thoughts before turning to them with a small smile.

"Thank you … for saving my friend." Anatoly merely nodded before Felicity all but ran towards the bathroom.

She may not have sown Sara up, or performed the lifesaving surgery, but Felicity had remained calm enough to call them for help. She trusted them.

"Oliver, my friend," Anatoly said as he approached. "As long as she stays stable for the night, you will be able to transport her home."

Oliver nodded. "Thank you." Oliver spoke softly and held out a hand to his old friend. "I can't tell you … thank you."

"Oliver, I understand your need to keep secrets." Anatoly lowered his voice as he took the younger man's hand. "But for all your sakes, I hope neither of these girls were involved in tonight's earlier festivities."

The assertion was clear. The statement read between the lines of his speech. He knew the truth, and he knew Sara and Felicity were involved. There was no threat in his eyes, only pity which Oliver assumed was related to the bullet wound in Sara's abdomen.

Anatoly whispered a low "may god have mercy on them now," before pulling Oliver closer for a swift hug. He gave a nod to the man packing their supplies and signaled it was time for them to leave.

"До свидания , мой друг."

Oliver stared after Anatoly with a quizzical expression on his brow. "До свидания."

And just as quickly as he had arrived, Anatoly was gone.

Both he and Diggle let the silence of the open room spread between them, the only sound to be heard was the running water of the nearby bathroom. Oliver collapsed into a nearby folding chair as the weight of the last few hours took hold of him.

"She did good." Oliver heard John mumble, his gaze fixed on his own blood stained hands. "Not many people can keep their cool like that."

Oliver nodded before turning back to where Sara lay. Her only movement was the rise and fall of her breath entering and exiting her body. A good sign, Oliver knew.

"As soon as we're sure she's stable we should get them out of here." They both knew it had to be done.

With someone out there gunning for Sara or Felicity, or _both_, it wasn't safe to leave either of them alone. Especially not in Sara's condition. Their best chance was with Oliver and John.

John nodded from his spot beside Oliver, eyes not moving from where he was wiping at the blood on his hands. "Are we planning on giving them a choice in the matter?"

"I don't think they have one anymore." Oliver let his hands rest on the palms of his hands, his fingers drawing small circles near his temples.

John knew Oliver was right. Felicity and Sara didn't have many options anymore. To go with John and Oliver would be their safest one.

"I remember when we were kids and Sara used to follow Tommy and me around everywhere, always trying to get into trouble with us." Oliver's voice was low as he raised his eyes to the woman he still remembered from his childhood.

Had it been that long ago when Sara was sneaking out late at night to come to the parties they would host? It felt like another lifetime. Another Oliver, another Sara.

He didn't recognize himself as being the same boy who cheated on his girlfriend with her kid sister, and he certainly didn't recognize Sara as being the same girl who would let him do tequila shots off her stomach.

They had all changed.

"Was this before or after you slept with her?" Diggle asked in a judgement free tone.

Oliver turned around and caught Diggle's eye. They never talked about his history with Laurel's sister, but Diggle knew all about it. He had done a lot of horrible things as 'Ollie' but this one was probably the worst. While Laurel said she forgave him, he could still see a look of betrayal firmly situated in her eyes whenever he was near.

He expected to see that look for at least a long while longer.

"Both." Oliver turned his glance back to Sara, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "She's not the same now."

"Neither are you."

"Yeah, but her island was different from mine." Oliver leaned forward in his chair, his eyes glancing over the planes of muscle beneath Sara's exposed skin. "Hers was a choice. Mine was a punishment."

Diggle was about to open his mouth to respond when the door to the bathroom opened, a haze of steam pouring out in the light of the room. Felicity stepped out, still wringing her hands just like earlier, but now they were red for a different reason.

Oliver saw the way she stood, shy and anxious, in front of them. She switched her weight unevenly every few seconds, although Oliver was unsure if she even knew she was doing it. Her eyes danced along both men before coming to rest on Sara's still unconscious form. A sigh of relief escaped her lips unbidden.

"Felicity, you look like you could use a break." John was the first one to speak. "We have a cot set up if you wanted to try to shut your eyes for a little while."

Felicity shook her head as she stepped forward until she was leaning against the table where Sara lay. "I don't think I could sleep even if I wanted too."

John nodded with clear understanding. "Why don't we at least get you something to change into?"

Oliver followed John's eye line to the dark patches of blood decorating Felicity's grey blouse which was no longer obstructed by her maroon, wool coat. Her hair had been pulled away from her face and splotches of red decorated parts of her skin. She also seemed to have scratches marring her knees from where she had been crouched low in the gravel of the train yard.

"Our go-bags are back at the train yard." She mumbled. "I think."

Oliver tried to give her a smile. "We have some spare clothes here."

Felicity lifted her gaze to meet his eyes with a small, appreciative smile of her own. "_Thank you_."

Oliver knew she didn't just mean for the clothes.

* * *

When John Diggle was a little kid, he tried as hard as he could to protect his little brother from anything that could hurt him. Bullies, cracks in the side walk, broken hearts, John tried to shield his brother from them all and more. It was just who little Johnnie Diggle was, always looking out for the ones he loved.

When Andy grew up, he didn't need John as much as he did when they were boys. Andy had grown into a strong, confident man who was capable of taking care of himself and his new family. Not that he didn't need John, but he didn't need him in the same way he had when they were children.

As the years progressed, John returned from combat with a new wife of his own and scars that seemed to be resistant to healing. John said he was fine but without the war to fight, or the active threat loaming over his head, he was left only to the thoughts and memories plaguing his mind.

This time it was Andy's turn to help his brother. Getting John a job had been easy – John's past and army reputation preceded him. John was dependable. He was a soldier. He would protect those left in his care because that was who he was.

Losing Andy and gaining Oliver had happened in such a short amount of time for John, at least. Being a big brother came naturally to Diggle. Caring for those he loved was easier than most things in his life. Oliver didn't replace his love for his brother, but helped to open up a space in his heart he thought he lost.

Oliver gave Diggle a purpose again. He gave him someone to care for, and in return helped him find a part of himself he thought he lost even before Andy died.

But seeing Felicity Smoak the youngest, yet oldest, twenty five year old sit in a metal folding chair with her eyes focused on her partner, Diggle couldn't help but feel that part of himself grow a bit wider.

He found himself wanting to protect her the way he protected Andy all those years ago, and the way he tried to protect Oliver now. No matter what she had done, or who she had robbed, he felt the urge to shield her from harm.

It was instinctual and surprising.

"All right." He broke through the quiet which had settled over the almost empty warehouse. "It's time for answers"

If he was going to protect her, though, he needed to know from what.

Felicity picked her head up so she could focus on him from where she sat in Oliver's too big grey hoodie and black sweats. "What do you mean?"

Oliver lifted his head from where he was packing his arrows.

"Dig, can't this wait?" He asked.

"No it can't, Oliver." Diggle kept his focus on Felicity as he gripped the table behind him. "First, you show up in Starling and rob _this_ guy, but he still gets all doe-eyed every time you're brought up in conversation." He didn't miss the way Oliver tipped his head away from the conversation as if to hide the subtle red tint of his cheeks. "Next you try to steal from the Bratva while under the employment of the Triad,"

"Duress." Felicity interrupted. "We were under _duress_."

"I highly doubt that would have mattered had you been caught." She still didn't get it. _Didn't she understand what she was doing?_ She was playing with a book full of matches and she didn't seem to care.

"Nope, not so much." Oliver interrupted.

At least the Bratva spokesperson for their group could speak from experience on that one.

"Then you run away from the people trying to help you, your partner gets shot in a train yard, and you call _us_ for help." Felicity lowered her gaze to Sara's still form, shame clouding her features. "You seem like a good kid, and a smart one at that, but you're not making it easy for us to trust you."

Diggle frowned as he loosened his grip on the table behind him to cross his arms in front of his chest. He didn't see what Oliver saw in her.

No, he saw something altogether different. He saw a lost kid who got mixed up in the wrong life but was too stubborn to get out of it.

"My mom died," Felicity said in a small voice, causing both men to start. "My mom died and we didn't have money and the crappy insurance company wouldn't cover her treatment, and my mom died." She paused for a breath. "Floyd took me in and gave me an outlet for my grief and gave me a way to help people like me who were being screwed over by the fat cats who only get fatter."

Diggle watched as she bit her lip, afraid of their response before giving her a nod of encouragement.

"Sure it's not the best supervillain reasoning, and I _could have_ hacked the people I hacked without robbing from billionaire playboys, and I _could have_ avoided getting shot in a museum heist, and yelling at career assassins, and so many other messed up things that have happened these past two years." Felicity stopped once more, this time her gaze falling on Sara with a level of warmth. "But then I wouldn't have Sara _and_ Floyd, for all his obvious faults… And I would have been… alone."

Diggle looked to Oliver, whose eyes were focused on the petite blonde. She finished with eyes downcast as if her apparent fear of being alone would manifest at that exact minute and she couldn't bear to watch.

"Was it really worth it, though," he asked. "Was it worth it to commit all those crimes? To break the law like that."

Felicity raised her head slowly to meet his stare.

"When you watch the only person in your life who gives a damn fade away in front of your eyes until they are unrecognizable and begging to die because it hurts _so_ much." She paused to swipe at the gathering moisture in her eyes. "Your priorities change."

"So you're ok with having worked for a murderer." John challenged.

He wanted to trust her, but her being associated with Lawton was a risk.

Felicity gave a small glance to Oliver before shifting her focus back to him. "Are you?"

They seemed to freeze, locked in their own little stalemate. Neither one wanting to speak first and break the passive standoff. Yet he knew she had a point, and while he had many more, he knew there would be time to work through those later.

"Sara's going to be fine." He relinquished her gaze and the subject. "She's stable for now, but she's going to need constant care until she can get back on her feet."

"Let me guess." Felicity let out a humorless laugh. "In a maximum security prison?"

"We were thinking back in Starling City under the watchful eyes of us and our team." John finished, gesturing between him and Oliver.

Felicity sat a little straighter. "Not in prison?"

"For now." Oliver added. "It seems you two made a lot of enemies on this trip and it would be safer for everyone involved for you both to stay with us."

"You're going to help us?"

There was that uncertainty again. Diggle hated that she could trust a man like Lawton so easily, but regarded him and Oliver with trepidation.

"We're not here to get you in trouble Felicity." He needed her to believe that. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but we genuinely want to help you."

And he did.

He knew he gave Oliver a hard time in the beginning, but he wanted to see this girl turn her life around. "But you have to want to help yourselves too."

Felicity looked back down at the still unmoving Sara as if asking her for agreement to their deal. He wondered how deep their connection went as partners. How far the two of them would go for each other. From what he had seen of them so far, he would hazard to say they were going to go the extra mile just to stay together.

"Ok." Felicity finally spoke up with a deep breath. "We'll go with you and we'll play by your rules." Diggle waited for the 'but' to this apparent victory. "_Until_ the Triad is caught and we no longer have people shooting at us."

Oliver seemed to nod while Diggle couldn't hold back the small grin. As she said those words, Dig saw a noticeable weight being released from her shoulders. It was as if the load she had been burdened with got just a bit lighter by having the team there to help them.

"In your line of work, that could be a very long time." Diggle nodded, his grin still in place.

Felicity smiled, a real smile, for the first time since he met her. "Yours too."

* * *

It had been a long night. Between Diggle tending to Sara, Felicity sitting vigil, and Oliver helping them both, no one slept. Sara did regain consciousness not long after Felicity agreed to go back to Starling with them. She seemed groggy but otherwise ok. The painkillers Anatoly left on hand weren't as strong as what she could have gotten in the hospital, but they would have to do.

Seeing Sara like this, laid out on a table, dried blood crusted over her skin and clothes wasn't the girl he remembered growing up with. He had also never seen her react to someone the way she had reacted to Felicity's injury earlier that night, or the way Felicity sat by her side.

Sara really had changed, and had found a loyal friend to stay with her.

Oliver thought it would have been different once they got on the plane. He thought maybe they would each get a chance to rest their eyes for a moment, well, except him. He didn't plan on sleeping until they had more information on the threat to Felicity and Sara.

He promised Felicity he would look into the Triad, help her take them down, and that was what he intended to do.

Sara fell asleep not long after she was situated on the couch lining one of the private jet's walls. He assumed her recent dose of pain relief helped lull her back to sleep. Diggle sat along the opposite wall, arms folded over chest, with the intent on keeping his eyes on Sara. While she was stable, he wasn't too keen on transporting her.

Oliver fell into a seat closer to the front of the plane while Felicity seemed to switch between the rear of the plane and the floor beside Sara. They were halfway over the Pacific when Oliver watched her stand to her feet and move to the plush leather chair she had been seated in earlier.

"Mind if I sit here?" Oliver questioned as he approached her spot.

Felicity looked up at him with a guilty expression as if she had been caught in the act as her fingers froze in their steady staccato beat against the arm rest.

"Not at all," she said with a forced smile on her face.

"How's your leg?" He took the seat in front of her, keeping his posture loose and demeanor as light as possible before calling her out. "You've been fidgeting ever since we got on the plane."

Felicity chuckled in an uncomfortable sort of way. "It's fine. I almost forgot about the gigantic piece of glass from earlier. I'm just a nervous flyer."

"I'm learning so much about you, Felicity Smoak." Oliver smiled in return, letting his left foot bump her crossed legs.

"My fear of flying and heights are hardly a secret." Felicity teased back before shifting her expression. "My fear of kangaroos on the other hand."

"You just don't strike me as the type of person afraid of anything."

She didn't. To him, Felicity Smoak was little more than a mystery, but what he did know of her painted a picture of a fearless, badass genius.

"Well you don't strike me as the sort to flirt with known criminals." Felicity rebutted. "Although I guess it does seem like the old, _pre-island_ you."

"You never met me." He rebutted, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation.

"No, but my mom's friend rode in an elevator with you once," she said with a small laugh. "And your party-boy habits were hardly a secret."

Oliver frowned at her words. Of course she knew about his past. Everyone did.

"What I mean is that you don't seem like that person anymore." Felicity rephrased her observation. "The you I met at the gala, and the guy who saved my life in Russia, does not seem like the type of person who takes kindly to thieves and criminals."

Oliver nodded in understanding before folding his arms across his chest. She didn't see it. She didn't see how grounded she made him.

He had only known her for twenty minutes and he had been enraptured with everything about her. She was the first person spoke to him like a person, and not just some castaway, college drop-out.

While he had made progress during his time home, everyone around him were all varying shades of grey. They were all the same.

When she walked into his line of sight at the gala … It was as if the room lit up in color. She did that, and after living in the darkness and grey for so long all he wanted was to be near the light again.

But she wasn't ready to hear that. Not yet.

"How did you and Sara meet?" He asked instead.

She eyed him suspiciously before glancing out of the window. She couldn't see anything in the night sky but vague outlines of clouds. He supposed maybe it was better that way.

"Floyd introduced us." Her voice was warm when she finally spoke. "I remember seeing her for the first time, kicking a wooden dummy's ass and just looking way taller than she actually is. Like some Amazonian warrior."

He saw the pure pride shine through her expression at the memory.

"You respect her."

"Of course I do. Sara's amazing at what she does and how she does it." It was a matter of fact to Felicity with no room for argument. "She doesn't use weapons, not in the conventional sense anyway. She knows how to defend herself and can use her surroundings to do so. She's quick and confident and has a really big heart." She paused for a moment, her hands suddenly becoming all too fascinating. "She's my family."

Oliver watched as Felicity's eyes darkened and she turned back to the window. "I know what you said back in the warehouse, but I'm still having a hard time understanding."

"Why I became a criminal?" Felicity asked with a quick turn of her head. "It's not that complicated, really."

"But it feels like it is. You just don't seem like the type of person who hurts others."

"Even thieves have a code." Felicity didn't seem angered by his assumption, but rather calm. Like she was about to teach him a math lesson. "Mine is to steal from those who can afford it and give it to those who can't."

"What qualifies you to make that call?" He asked quickly, keeping the judgement from his voice.

"Given five minutes, and WiFi, and I can learn everything possible about a person. So I would say … _that._"

Oliver saw a twinkle enter her eyes. A self-assured response to knowing just how good she really was.

"I don't believe you." He teased.

"The internet is an amazing thing, Oliver Queen."

"Did the internet tell you I was the Arrow?" He asked, knowing that once and for all he stumped her. "I'm assuming you did research on me before you robbed me."

She paused to think about her response, knowing just as well as he did, that the internet had no _real_ record of him being the Arrow. He watched as a light bulb seemed to have been turned on and she turned to him, a waggle in her eyebrows.

"It did not, but it _did_ give me a hint that you got something other than a tan on that island." She pointed out, leaning forward in her seat. "You were arrested early on after your return for being the vigilante, which led me to do an extensive research on your background and known history. Your medical history explained the obvious, the scars and tattoos marking up your body weren't there before you left. Meaning, short of very imaginative and talented animals, you were not alone on that island."

She flinched as the words left her mouth, as if the wince he tried to hide gave her pain also. "Which is what you said in your original statement after returning before recanting in front of Detective Lance via a polygraph test."

Oliver was impressed. She had done her research. "Still didn't say I was the Arrow, though."

"You're right. But what it does say is that you clearly had an experience severe enough to alter the person you once were, and cause you to suffer from PTSD, which is completely understandable. Yet you haven't sought out psychological counseling." Felicity finished with a perplexed expression, as if she were trying to solve him.

"If I had I'm sure you would have found those records too." He mumbled but she kept going, as if he hadn't spoken.

"Which means you have either come to terms with what happened to you on that island, and in Russia if your Bratva connections say _anything_, or you've found a way to cope with your experiences in a less than healthy way." She paused, looking him over. "So no, the internet didn't tell me you were the Arrow, but it does help makes sense that you became this new person because of all the injustices you've seen and experienced over the five years you were gone."

Oliver nodded, unsure of how she was able to jump through all the information like that.

"You became a hero to right those wrongs." She finished with a smile of pride.

"And you became a villain." His words weren't hinted with malice or judgment, but sadness.

Their experiences laid out in front of them, two roads to choose, and both chose the opposite path.

Felicity shrugged, wiping at a stray tear running down her cheek. "Well I'm still young." He nodded along. "And redemption stories are always the best ones."

Oliver found himself smiling with her. If he knew anything from his time away, and his two years back home, it was that there was always time to turn things around.

* * *

The gravel of the Russian train yard crunched beneath the six steel toed boots headed for the small shed which had been left abandoned. It was the only sound to be heard in the lull between trains. The black garb of the three individuals left their faces obscured and their identities concealed.

When the person ahead of the group paused, raising a hand to signal their halt, the others followed. They could obviously be seen as the leader with traces of red found in her black uniform, but was of a smaller frame than the others.

"This is where it happened." Her voice was soft, melodic even.

She bent to the graveled yard where two bags of what looked to be clothing, were strewn along the train yard floor. There, among the abandoned clothes, was a disposable cell phone. She lifted it in her hands, gingerly, as if the phone held her only clue as to where her beloved was.

Who would have thought that a piece of hard plastic and metal parts would cause her to feel her heart collapse in on itself?

"Who the fuck are you?" The voice behind her was alarmed, and angered, yet she felt no fear.

She only felt pity for the man who had stumbled upon her in her quest. The men behind her, her father's men, stood at attention and ready to guard her if necessary. Standing to her feet, she turned in a graceful manner with the hard plastic cellular phone still wrapped tight in her grasp.

"I am Nyssa al Ghul, heir to the demon," she announced, but the man did not seem afraid. "You will tell me who has taken my beloved."

Nyssa gestured to the two men on either side to grab the man in front of her. One way or another, she _would_ find Sara.

* * *

AN: So I do not speak Russian and use Google Translate for any dialogue of any foreign language. Here are the translations from the Chapter:

_Оливер, шаг в сторону- Oliver, step aside. _

_Пуля , возможно, порезал паслись артерию или внутренний орган- The bullet may have grazed an artery or internal organ_

_Если бы вы назвать мне раньше мы могли бы очистить нашу комнату хирургического- If you told me before, I could have cleaned our surgery room; Она повезет, если она не поймать инфекцию от крыс- She'll be lucky if she does not catch an infection from the rats. _

_Почему бы вам не работать- Why don't you just work._

_Скажите, Оливер, который эта девушка?- Tell me Oliver, who is this girl? _

_Старый друг семьи- Old friend of the family; Один я не хотел бы потерять- One I would not want to lose. _

_Тогда мы будем работать особенно тяжело, чтобы убедиться, что она живет, капитан- Then we will work hard to make sure she lives, Captain. _

_До свидания , мой друг- Good bye, my friend_

_До свидания- Good Bye_


	12. Chapter 11

**AN: First of all, THANK YOU to those who had continuously supported this story. I know I've been erratic with updates these past couple months, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate each one of your comments, follows, and favs. Any time I feel discouraged about a chapter you all help keep me encouraged. I love each of you so much for that.**

**Secondly, I am so sorry for the erratic updates. My muse has been very flighty with this story lately. I know where we are going, I'm just having a hard time getting there.**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter (it's a long one, coming in at ~7646 words). I feel like I'm going to have to duck and run afterwards. It's going to leave you with more questions than answers (possibly), but I promise you this has been the plan since the beginning and it will all fit together at the end.**

* * *

"Hey, Boss." The sound of Roy's voice greeting them is the first real sign that they are home. "How was your trip? Cold, I'm guessing."

Diggle can only grunt as he carries the now awake Sara down the steps of the small aircraft. She woke up when they stopped in Hong Kong to refuel before falling back to an unconscious state, and then once more while they were over the Pacific.

"Roy," Oliver greets as he takes the young man's hand in his own for a shake. "Good to see you."

"Well you call, I answer." Roy shrugs before reaching for the suitcases the crew have begun to deplane.

"Ooh, when he says jump do you say how high, too?" Felicity teases as she emerges from the cabin.

Roy glances to his boss who is only shaking his head. Somewhere along the way during their flight, Felicity had started joking with him and took on a playful side. Diggle even got in on the action with the three of them falling into a comfortable rhythm.

But now they were back to reality, and no longer at a cruising altitude over the Pacific Ocean.

"Roy, this is Felicity Smoak." Oliver gestured as she clung to the railing of the airplane steps.

"Ahh, the jewel thief." Roy looked on, letting his eyes take in the woman who had come to stand beside Oliver. "I'm assuming the lack of handcuffs means you tricked my boss into letting you off."

"Roy-" Oliver bit out, but was stopped by Felicity.

"You give me too much credit, Roy." Felicity smiled. "We have an arrangement, and once it's over he'll use the handcuffs then … which didn't sound as dirty in my head."

Oliver tipped his head before catching Diggle's eye over Roy's head. "I think we should save the small talk for later."

Turning to walk towards the car, Oliver almost missed Roy's question about Tommy's whereabouts and why he wasn't allowed to tell Tommy he was picking them up. He also didn't miss the way Sara tensed in the backseat of the car when she heard Tommy's name or the pleading look she sent him.

"We just can't tell him yet." He hated hiding this from Tommy, but with a potential threat out for Sara and Felicity's blood, it was better to not involve the Lance's.

That included Tommy.

Maybe he could convince Tommy to take Laurel and Detective Lance out of town until they could fix this. He had heard his friend mention the idea of visiting Mrs. Lance in Central City before the wedding. Maybe now would be the right time.

"Ollie, please," Sara pleaded from the backseat, Felicity sliding in behind her. "They can't know I'm here."

"Wait, what am I missing?"

"Roy," Diggle called out. "Just get in the car and we will explain it all later."

Roy paused to stare at them for a couple minutes before deciding if he would follow along. It wasn't the first time Roy seemed to want to challenge Oliver or Diggle, but he never did. Roy's own life experiences made it hard, sometimes, for him to fully understand the way of the team. He had made improvements over the course of the year, but he was still learning.

Diggle guessed that one day Roy would make a stand and would venture out on his own. He just hoped they were prepared for when that happened.

"I didn't know you had an injured passenger, or else I would have brought the van." Roy shrugged before sliding in the backseat, inching Sara's legs so he could fit.

"Where to?" Diggle asked Oliver over the roof of the car.

They had planned everything except where to take them. They couldn't go to Diggle's and arouse the suspicion of his neighbors. Lyla knew what they were doing in Russia, and knew about Felicity and Sara, but there was a difference between knowing and seeing. Lyla was obligated by her position in A.R.G.U.S. to report criminal activity, especially activity that took up residence in her living room.

The mansion was out. Moira knew Sara, and would definitely ask questions. Even if they could sneak both women past his mother, and find a room that was barely used, the staff would still notice. The Loft was also out. Living with his sister was good in theory, but made keeping secrets difficult. This secret would be nearly impossible to keep in the space of their apartment.

That left the lair, which Tommy had access too, and was not conducive to Sara's recuperation. They did have medical supplies in the lair, only one cot, and many open drafts. It was no better than the warehouse in Russia.

"Hey," Felicity poked her head out of the car. "We have a safe house in Starling."

Oliver met Diggle's eyes over the car, of course they did.

"Well, Sara does." Felicity added on. "If you are ok with it, she can give you the directions."

He could see Diggle's reluctance. They didn't know this place and couldn't be sure of the safety. They couldn't be sure Felicity and Sara wouldn't try to escape, even though Sara was a bit slower. The Triad could still make a play for them if the location wasn't secure enough.

There were too many variables they couldn't account for.

"Listen, you guys want to trust us, right?" Felicity prompted eyeing them both meaningfully. "Then trust me. Sara has used this place to keep watch on her parents and her sister."

Diggle seemed to be judging whether or not he could trust her on this, while Oliver felt the ever present pull to believe her.

"If its security you want, I can get it set up within a half hour with the right materials." Felicity urged. "But you guys have to trust us first."

"Sara can give us the directions?" Oliver voiced, taking charge of the plans.

Felicity nodded her affirmation before sliding back in the car.

"I don't like this." Digg voiced from where he stood at the driver side of the vehicle.

"We're going to have to go on a limb on this one." Oliver agreed.

They were going to have to trust Sara and Felicity to not double cross them.

* * *

Sara knew this was a bad idea. A spectacularly bad idea, in fact.

Yet she couldn't stop herself.

The safe house in Starling wasn't hers and had only been loaned to her on a handful of occasions. It was situated in a rougher part of the Glades, yet paralleled the street which led directly into the heart of Starling City.

Felicity hadn't known about this safe house, mainly because she would have disapproved. Felicity didn't like the idea of them being indebted to anyone they didn't need to be. She also would have objected to the unorthodox use of security in place by way of trick doors and old fashioned booby traps, with no tech in sight.

She also wouldn't have been a fan of the owner of said safe house. Well, not the owner, but the owner's association.

"This is it," Sara said with a wince as she let John Diggle lead her through the entrance way.

She refused to be carried, and was very particular about which side she walked on. Disabling the traps and alarms required her to be vertical and in certain locations. It was difficult in her condition with her muscles not performing the way they ought to perform, and the constant ache she felt when she moved.

"Are you sure you can walk?" Felicity asked for the fifth time since they exited the car. "You may have popped a stitch or something."

"She'll be ok." John Diggle assured her friend. "Right?"

Sara could only nod as she observed the level of comfort Oliver, John, and Felicity had with each other. How long had she been unconscious?

"I'm just trying to be sure because that MacGyver-esque surgery that was performed on you less than twenty four hours ago couldn't have been all that sanitary." Felicity rambled. "I mean, I wasn't the only person in that warehouse, so you all saw what I'm talking about. It was gross and dingy and you probably caught something-"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted, pulling Felicity to a stop with a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be ok."

Sara furrowed her brow at the visual of Oliver Queen calming her frazzled friend.

"Good, you got her to stop worrying." The younger man, Roy, was a new fixture in their little group. He was also a grumpy one at that. "You talk a lot, blondie."

"I have been told that before, if you believe it." Felicity smiled in his direction but had yet to extricate herself from Oliver's careful touch.

"So what do you need to set up the security?" Oliver directed to Felicity - with moon eyes if you asked Sara.

At least Felicity's little crush hadn't been one sided. Still, she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Especially considering he was trying to send them both to jail. Or at least he had been prior to her getting shot. Now, she wasn't too sure.

"I'll need a remote access point, a router, which given the right parts I can make, and the exact dimensions of this space." Felicity ticked off her mental list. "The rest I can do through my tablet."

While the men of the room seemed surprised and somewhat taken aback at this announcement, Sara knew full well what Felicity could do with that tablet. Her friend never got the credit she deserved for being as intelligent as she was. Felicity Smoak was scary smart.

"We probably have most of those items back at the lair," Oliver said as he pointed over his shoulder. "Can you write down a description of the specifications? Roy and I can get them and be back in a little while."

Felicity shook her head, blonde ponytail dancing over her shoulders as she did. "You will have no idea what you're looking for."

Roy shrugged before looking up to Oliver. "She has a point. It did take all three of us, Lyla, and a week to get the new computer to run a basic search."

Sara bit back a laugh as Felicity's face fell, the appearance of pain knotting her features.

Oliver shot a glare at his protégé. "It wasn't that bad."

"Well if it is all the same to you, I would rather be the one to select the parts I will need." Felicity's face was still contorted. "Quality assurance and all."

Oliver and John exchanged a glance before Oliver finally nodded. Sara could see the reluctance, but knew that they trusted Felicity more than her at this point. To be fair, she had been unconscious most of the time they had spent together.

"I promise not to leak all your green secrets and whereabouts." Felicity promised while holding up three fingers.

"You were never a scout," Sara said as John lowered her gingerly to the bed.

Felicity turned to her friend with a sour look. Sara did her best to bite back a laugh more so to keep from jarring her still aching abdomen. Felicity was cute when she wanted to be around technology. She knew Felicity would say just about anything to get close to a high powered technological device.

"Even so," Felicity drawled out with a pointed gaze directed at Sara before turning back to Oliver. "I promise I will not try to run, I will remain on my best behavior, and I will not use this equipment to send out any S.O.S. signals to any possible allies we may have."

"What allies?" Diggle straightened.

"If people are shooting at us, I'm assuming that means you guys are it." Her tone was bright and cheery, but Sara saw the twinge of pain. "So yay for you guys."

They were alone now. Their only hope of rescue would be the League, and while Sara loved Nyssa, the thought of becoming a league member terrified her.

Nyssa told Sara about the League of Assassins their last night in Prague. They had been curled up together in the hotel sheets, the light streaming in from the open balcony doors - totally romantic, Felicity had teased when Sara told her about it the next day. Felicity had secluded herself in her room to scan the security footage from the heist and wipe any trace of them in Prague. Something Sara couldn't help her with.

Nyssa had whispered secrets of master assassins, cheating death, and the promise of being Heir to the Demon. She told Sara of her power to grant Sara entrance to the League, if she so desired. Beside her father, no one was allowed such influence.

The idea of being with Nyssa was alluring, but the thought of leaving the other people in her life behind was what stopped her. Becoming a member of the League of Assassins would come with a cost, and Sara didn't want her family to pay it.

Her life was what she chose, and she had done well in shielding her family from that choice. They only knew of her as a failure and a runaway. Her law-abiding family weren't burdened with Sara's lifestyle. They didn't have to know what she did at night, and in turn were not ashamed of the woman she had become.

But her choice also meant that there was a door which still remained open to them. One day, when she tired of robbing people and conning members of the rich and powerful, she could return to them. The Canary could hang up her mask and Sara Lance could go home.

Joining the League would have slammed that door shut.

So Sara said no that night, but Nyssa remained. She promised Sara her respect for her choice, and vowed to keep the offer open should she change her mind. Nyssa had made Sara promise to never speak of this offer unless it was to accept it – not even to Felicity – as the League did not give options when offers were extended.

Which is exactly what Sara had done ever since that night. She never told Felicity the truth of their relation to the League of Assassins. She never let on that all they had to do was say yes, and the League would welcome them in, hopefully with open arms.

"Come on, blondie." Roy stepped forward seeming to hold a note of sympathy in his tone. "Let's go computer shopping."

Sara watched as Felicity brightened right back up. With a smile directed to Sara and then Diggle, she followed the younger man out of the safe house.  
"You two going to be ok while we're gone?" Oliver hung back.

She noticed how his words were directed at his partner. His eyes barely cut to her.

"We'll be fine." John Diggle nodded to his friend before glancing back down to her.

Felicity was able to make friends easily as herself. Sara did better as a con-artist. Having to be Sara Lance with these guys meant she couldn't be any one of her other aliases, especially not when Felicity had already allied herself with them so fully.

Now she only had to bide her time and hope for the best, especially with 'big arms' watching her.

* * *

There was no going back after this point. Showing Felicity the lair would change things. She would be able to strike up a generous plea deal with Starling City Police for the name and location of the Arrow, all she would have to do was sign on the dotted line.

It put him, Roy, Diggle, and Tommy all in the line of fire. All of them had been party to his acts the past two years. They had all helped him on his crusade and in return became accessories to his crimes. Them knowing this fact, and agreeing to help anyway, hadn't made it easier on him when the SCPD would get closer to his trail.

But for some reason he could only feel trust in his gut. He knew Felicity Smoak would not try to sell him out. They could have blindfolded her or they could have done a better job at hiding it, but as they pulled the car up to the corner near Verdant, Oliver just felt right with their decision.

"Tell me your secret base of operations is not in the basement of a nightclub." Oliver glanced in the rearview mirror to see Felicity grin.

"What's wrong with it being under a club?" Roy chimed in.

Oliver noticed the two getting on pretty well. Roy seemed chattier than normal, and Felicity seemed at ease around the younger man.

"Nothing," Felicity hummed. "Although, I guess it is a good hiding spot, because who's gonna believe a couple of drunks if they happen to stumble upon you during your late night activities."

Oliver pulled the car to a stop one block out, and was sure to back track so as not to be noticed. It was a normal behavior he took up after his time away. Felicity remained quiet and Roy didn't say a word until they entered the lair through the alley way entrance.

Roy showed Felicity in, with Oliver trailing behind to keep a watchful eye. Once the door was closed and they were safely tucked away in the foundry walls, Oliver let his guard down.

He turned his attention to the pair beside him. Roy was checking his cell phone while Felicity was staring wide-eyed and mouth agape at the lair, her eyes darting back and forth as she took it all in.

"I have to run upstairs." Roy told his boss with a shake of the phone. "Thea's upstairs and if I don't go up, Tommy will come down."

Oliver gave him one short nod and a clap on the shoulder as a thanks for his help. Oliver never would have guessed last year that Roy would be part of the team. He probably would have done a spit take if anyone told him that Roy was going to be a valued member of said team. But either way, Oliver was glad the young man surprised him.

"You're quiet." Oliver turned to see Felicity standing near the computer monitors but with her eyes trained on his leather outfit.

She seemed lost as her eyes traced the patterns of the leather material. He wondered what she was thinking about as she finally released her gaze.

"I'm just thinking."

She gave him a small, half smile before sitting in the chair near the computer console. He noted how well she seemed to fit in the lair … and not just because he wanted her too. Her eyes may have been lost as they scanned the vast array of weapons and medical supplies, but her posture was open. Her frame, though small, was taller down here.

"You've seen the costume before." He couldn't help the wink he gave her as he leaned back against the metal table with his arrows. "In fact, I remember you holding on to the strap of the quiver pretty tight as we hit the ground."

Felicity's eyes lit up and she leaned back in her seat as the memory of Russia came to the forefront of her mind. It wasn't hard to forget even if their daring jump from Anatoly's mansion had seemed like it had happened ages ago.

"Well you did tell me to hold on to you tight." Her voice was breathy and her blue eyes twinkled a bit. "You didn't give me much time to realize what was happening, by the way."

"You had your hand on a bomb," he deadpanned. "Did you want a hand written letter?"

Felicity guffawed as she bent over in her seat.

"Looks like Mr. Queen has a sense of humor."

He could listen to the sound of her laugh all day. It was light and musical in nature yet stirring. It flowed over his skin while making the small hairs stand on end. Her voice was like the feel of an electric current coursing through his body, jolting him back to life.

It was terrifying.

"I have been known to joke on occasion." He rebutted.

Felicity shook her head, holding back another laugh before turning in the chair to see the computer.

"Roy wasn't kidding when he said you guys were having a hard time with the computer." Her fingers began flying across the keyboard, waking up the monitor in the process. "This poor thing."

Oliver shook his head at her change of subject. "It's not that bad."

Felicity turned and looked to him over the rims of her glasses as if to say 'really?'

"Ok, so we may have struggled a bit." Oliver relented.

"A bit?" Felicity expressed. "A bit would be forgetting your username and password on Windows. Just looking at the hard drive of this beauty and you can see all the pain it had to endure."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "How are you even seeing the hard drive?"

"Hello. Genius." Felicity looked a little offended as she continued typing. "I'm kind of a big deal."

"Oh right," he nodded with amusement before coming to stand at her elbow. "The Oracle. Extremely wise."

Felicity spun in her seat, pointing a finger at him as she did. "For the record, I did not pick that name, and you should really look into getting a different chair down here, one with better back support."

To demonstrate her point Felicity bounced a little in the seat.

"I'll keep that in mind." Oliver chuckled. "So how did you get your nickname?"

Felicity paused, her hands stilling above the keyboard. "Floyd."

Oliver saw the way her jaw tightened and her brow furrowed as she said her mentor's name. He knew what it was like to be betrayed by someone you trusted. He knew the hurt that burned and the anger that threatened to consume every thought. Most of all he knew how confusing it was.

To love someone like they were your own family… To trust them so implicitly and then to have it all fall apart was devastating.

"He was very impressed with how smart I was." Felicity spoke in a slow even tone. "He said I was too smart for my own good, sometimes."

Oliver watched as she turned in her seat so she was facing him.

"Sounds like he knew you pretty well." Oliver kept his tone light as the ghosts behind Felicity's eyes danced a familiar tale.

"He met me at a bar, but he already knew who I was… what I was capable of." Felicity told him, her tone somber. "When I met him for the first time he made me feel like my world wasn't crumbling around me …"

He watched her trail off, her eyes darkening.

"The first time he called me Oracle it had been a joke." This time she smiled, short and almost secretive. "He and Sara were out on a job, and I had been with them for about a week. I pulled up the chemical compound of …" Felicity cut herself off before making eye contact. He saw her defenses spring back up. "An item."

Oliver wanted to roll his eyes. He already knew she was a thief. What more did she have to hide?

"Anyway, I figured it out in like thirty seconds, so he started calling me the Oracle."

"All knowing." Oliver said to himself. "Did you ever wonder what you could have been doing instead of robbing people?"

"Coding high level government security software?" The way she scrunched her nose was adorable. Oliver just wanted to laugh but bit it back with a slight huff.

"You could have been doing real good." He saw her bite the corner of her mouth. "You still can."

He didn't want to send her to prison. He didn't want to have to turn her over to Detective Lance and read about her court sentence in the papers. Well that wasn't true. He would find a way to be there when the hearings took place. He would be that support for her.

Still, he wished he didn't have to do it. If only he could get through to her, maybe then he could convince Diggle that they could let it slide. They could bring her on as some sort of restitution. She could help them save the city.

"I'm not a hero, Oliver." Felicity met his eyes with a sad note. "That's your job, remember."

"Felicity."

He wanted to object. He wanted to tell her she was wrong. She could be a hero. A much better hero than him.

Yet he could only move towards her and lean in closer while letting his arm brush against the skin of her elbow as she turned back to the computer. The feel of her skin sent a jolt through his system and, judging by the way she started in the chair, hers too.

"You know, last time you went intercontinental I at least got some souvenir Vodka."

Oliver froze at Tommy's voice coming closer to them from the staircase. Felicity's eyes flew to his in uncertainty and maybe a slight tinge of fear.

"I thought we talked about this after the damn earthquake leveled half the city." Tommy continued, unaware of Felicity's presence. "You come back from a possibly dangerous mission, you call, smoke signal, send a carrier pigeon. I don't care - "

Oliver saw the moment Tommy's eyes landed on Felicity. He completely slowed, glancing back and forth between the woman at the computer and the staircase entrance. Tommy wasn't supposed to know any of this. Knowing about Felicity was too close to knowing about Sara.

The only reason he hadn't told Tommy about Felicity had been because he was afraid of where the conversation would lead. He didn't want to have to lie to his best friend, but he couldn't ask him to lie to Laurel anymore.

"Hello," Tommy said as he regained his bearings. "I'm sorry, I'm not used to anyone being down here that isn't sweaty, weaponized, and fluent in some sort of martial arts."

Felicity sat a little straighter in her seat. "How do you know I'm not fluent in martial arts?"

Tommy let his eyes run up and down where she was sitting until they finally settled on Oliver.

"No, you're right. The panda flats totally scream 'can kill me with her pinky.'"

"Tommy," Oliver heaved a deep sigh. "This is Felicity."

Tommy nodded, already having figured that out. "So Meghan here is just dropping in for a quick visit to our secret lair?"

Oliver and Felicity exchanged a look before Oliver took a step towards his friend. "I didn't want to lie to you."

"So don't." The frustration was clear on Tommy's face.

Felicity shook her head behind him, silently pleading with him to not break Sara's confidence. Tommy wouldn't keep that secret from Laurel, and they couldn't trust him enough to ask. The Lance family could not know Sara was in town.

"Diggle and I rescued Felicity from the Triad." Oliver explained in short.

"And …" Tommy waved an expectant hand. "Saving Meghan over there, which was your intended mission, is not exactly a state secret."

"Please stop calling me that." Felicity groaned.

Tommy tipped his head to look around Oliver at Felicity.

"Tommy." Oliver pulled his attention back. "There is more, but we couldn't tell you."

The look of hurt that flashed through Tommy's eyes was more than enough to make him regret it. Tommy had been part of the team since before there even was a team. Even without him knowing it.

"Well, Oliver, is this 'I'm the vigilante bad,' or 'I've just spent five years being tortured and trained into an assassin' kind of bad?" Tommy turned his attention to Felicity. "You'd think they'd both be the same level of badness, but nope. Not so much."

Oliver ran a hand along his neck, gripping at the tense muscles he could feel straining beneath his touch.

"You can't tell anyone."

"Oliver," Felicity called out in warning, rising from her seat as she did.

"Hey, buddy, it's me." Tommy's voice lost its edge. "I've got your back."

Oliver turned to Felicity who only looked afraid.

"The reason we couldn't tell you about Felicity and when we came back was because of who Felicity's partner is." He paused to let the first part sink in. "The woman we assumed was the Canary … it's Sara."

Tommy's face morphed from one of confusion to one of understanding to finally one of anger. Oliver knew that Tommy was just now figuring out who this secret was really to be kept from. He also knew Tommy didn't like it.

"No, absolutely not." Were the first words he could form.

"Tommy, I need you to keep this quiet, just for now." Oliver told his friend in a calm tone.

Tommy shook his head before sending a heated glare in Oliver's direction. "No, you're asking me to lie to my fiancée, the woman I love."

"I'm asking you to keep her safe." Oliver challenged. "This is dangerous stuff we're dealing with, and we can't be too careful right now."

Tommy scoffed before looking to the ceiling in frustration.

"We deal with dangerous stuff every day, Oliver, how is this any different?"

Oliver felt Felicity move to his side, barely touching his arm.

"Excuse me, hi, yeah, don't mean to interrupt but if you are already hiding dangerous information from the same woman you're arguing for, then what's the problem this time?"

Tommy sent another glare in Oliver's direction as if to ask 'why is she talking?'

"The problem?" Tommy spat back, shifting his heated stare from Oliver to Felicity and then back to Oliver. "The problem is that this is Laurel's sister, Captain Lance's daughter, and you are asking me to lie to their faces." Tommy turned and pointed an accusatory finger at the petite blonde. "And who are you to lecture me on what I do or do not tell my fiancée?"

Felicity didn't cower back, to her credit, Oliver noted. No, she stood a bit taller and took a step forward. Her voice never wavered and she never gave any hint that she was worried, or timid.

"I'm Sara's best friend, and while you're looking out for Laurel, I'm looking out for Sara." She announced with firm finality. "She would not want them to be placed in danger, and the people who are after us don't care if her father is a police captain or if her sister is the ADA."

Tommy paused, turning away from the pair with his hands on his hips. Oliver could tell Tommy was trying to let the words sink in. He was trying to come to terms with what they were asking of him. Oliver would even bet that Tommy was trying to wish away the last ten minutes to before he knew the damn secret.

Instead he turned back to them with a frown in place. "Well she should have thought of that before she got into the life she did."

"Tommy, we just need a few days to figure all this out." Oliver told him. "Just give us a few days."

"All for a girl?" Tommy ground out with one final shake of his head. "You better know what you're doing, Oliver."

Oliver watched Tommy circle back to the metal stairs, not looking back once.

* * *

She hadn't wanted to leave the foundry when Roy came clunking down the same metal stairs Tommy just walked up. They had only had a brief moment alone after Tommy's exit in which neither spoke a word. Yet there was so much still to say.

Like for starters, she didn't blame him for telling Tommy. She didn't like it, but she didn't blame him.

How could she? If she had the option of telling Sara the truth or hiding something from her, the truth always won. They were partners, and partners didn't lie to each other. Sure she hadn't told Sara about that time at MIT where she hosted an underground casino, but that was small stuff. Inconsequential.

She also wanted to tell Oliver that she was sorry. She felt responsible for the rift between the two best friends. While she would defend Sara with her dying breath, she hated that she was in part responsible for the turmoil that Tommy was facing. She hated that because of her, Oliver was hurting too.

If she could have gone back to the night of the Queen Job and redo it all … well, she wouldn't take back everything. If she did, she wouldn't have met Oliver. Even though her presence in his life hadn't been all rainbows and unicorns, she didn't want him to not be in hers.

She stood beside him, arm to arm, as Tommy stormed up the stairs and all she could think about was how much more her life would have sucked without Oliver Queen in it. In the deepest parts of herself she knew without a doubt that losing him would mean losing a part of her. Same as when her mother died.

She barely had enough time to come to terms with that realization when Roy made his way down the stairs with a curious expression.

He saw Tommy leave the basement and figured he saw Felicity. He didn't understand why Tommy was so upset, but kept his mouth shut anyway. Oliver asked Roy to take Felicity back to the safe house with the promise of bringing the security equipment she had been pulling up on the computer screen when he hadn't been looking.

Her mind was still whirling with the bone crushing thought of her possibly having to lose him when Roy escorted her out of the alleyway entrance and toward a red Ducati.

They had only been driving for two blocks, she guessed – it was hard to keep track the way Roy swerved in and out of alley ways – when there was a pronounced bump beneath them. Felicity had to tighten her grip on Roy's hoodie as she began to slip from the narrow seat.

Why Oliver hadn't let them take the car was beyond her, and she fully intended to give him flack about it later. Roy on the other hand, seemed more concerned with the bump than with her almost falling. The bike began to slow to a stop, shuddering every two feet.

"Shit." She heard Roy curse as he cut the bike's engine.

Felicity tried her best to uncurl her fingers from Roy's hoodie but still felt a slight tremor run through her at the memory of the sharp turns.

"What is it?" Felicity heard her voice muffle over the helmet's obstruction.

Roy shook his head and dismounted the bike with ease. He lifted his helmet off before leaning over to look at the front tire. She thought she heard him swear once more under his breath as he turned and focused his gaze on the road they just traveled.

He turned back to her with a worried expression. "We have a flat tire."

Felicity took her helmet off before dismounting as well so she could stand face to face.

"I'm assuming from your gloom and doom tone that the flat tire isn't because of natural causes." Roy shook his head while he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. "And judging by the lack of people or cars, I'm guessing we are in the opening for a serial killer movie?"

"I'm calling Oliver." Roy ignored her query as he began swiping to Oliver's contact. "He'll get here and – "

Felicity watched as something silver, and fast, knocked the phone right out of Roy's hand. The young man winced, but only let his pain interfere for a moment before he was pushing her to the ground.

"Are you ok?" Felicity rushed as Roy held tight to his arm.

"I think so." He winced again as he raised the sleeve of his hoodie. "Whatever it was didn't break the skin."

Felicity let out a breath as she tried to peek over the bike, but couldn't see anything.

"We need to get to that building." Roy asserted, crouching low beside her. "We need cover from whoever is out there."

Felicity gave a quick nod before glancing at their surroundings. How could a city street be this empty? Seriously?!

"Ok, on my count," Roy said in order to regain her attention. "One – "

"Where is Sara?"

Felicity couldn't believe it.

She knew that voice. Of course she knew that voice. How could one forget the voice of the assassin you yelled at?

Nyssa al Ghul. Here in Starling City. Clearly looking for her girlfriend, but why was Nyssa looking for Sara? How did Nyssa even know where they were?

Well she knew how Nyssa knew where they were, she was an international assassin with connections in every corner of the globe. She was one of the most feared people in the criminal community, next to her father. If she wanted information, she was more than likely to get it.

Roy, obviously, did not know this. The young man pushed her hands, which tried to stop him from standing, away as he raised himself a little higher from behind the bike.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I am Nyssa al Ghul, heir to the demon." Nyssa raised her bow, arrow notched, so it was aimed directly at Roy's head. "Now where is Sara?"

"Nyssa, wait!" Felicity sprung up from the position behind the bike, nearly knocking Roy over in the process. She knew if she didn't act, Nyssa would shoot to boy who was only trying to protect her and Sara. "Nyssa, don't shoot!"

Felicity wondered how often Nyssa lost that expert poker face she held firm and tight. She assumed it was a job requirement considering the work Nyssa did. Assassins who let their guards down were dead assassins, she assumed.

It had only happened twice that she had seen Nyssa let her guard down in front of Felicity. The first when she had yelled at her in Prague, and now here. Each time Nyssa seemed to be taken aback by Felicity Smoak, as if the computer whiz somehow had the power to shock the fearless warrior.

A look of relief washed over Nyssa, her bow lowering from its placement. "Felicity Smoak."

Nyssa took a step in her direction, relief still in place, when Roy took a step of his own to block Felicity from view.

Nyssa must have taken Roy's movement to be a threat and notched her arrow once more.

"You would do well to let Miss Smoak pass by," Nyssa told him, her voice firm and unwavering. "I do not take lightly the threat of others."

"I'm not the one with a weapon aimed at her," Roy challenged.

"To be fair," Felicity interrupted from behind Roy, moving so that Nyssa could place her in her line of sight. "She's pointing the weapon at you."

Roy turned to give her an incredulous look that clearly said 'are you serious right now?' before turning back to Nyssa.

"She's not going to hurt me," Felicity told him in a soothing voice, before she turned to Nyssa. "And she won't hurt you."

Nyssa gave a single, albeit reluctant, nod before lowering her weapon once more.

"We're on the same side."

Roy lessened the tension in his shoulders, but it did not go away entirely. He seemed to take his responsibilities of protecting her very serious. She would have found it amusing if they weren't in the situation they were in.

"Where is Sara?" Nyssa directed to Felicity this time, eyes searching. "I received a message from her concerning danger towards you both."

"A message?" Now it was Felicity's turn to be confused. Sara hadn't called Nyssa, at least they hadn't had time to call. Unless … "The burner phone. She called you in the train yard?"

"There was gunfire and I heard your voice call out to her." Nyssa relayed. "The call ended too abruptly to know with certainty what had happened."

Felicity knew she must have been terrified to have gotten that message and not know what happened to them. It was no wonder she traveled half way across the world to find them.

"You appear to be well, so I am led to believe it was not you who was injured." The regretful tone in her voice almost made Felicity want to chuckle. Almost. "So I will repeat my earlier question. Where is Sara?"

"She's ok," Felicity told her as she took a step in her direction. "She was shot, but she is ok now."

"Take me to her." The insistence in her voice and pleading in her eyes made her feel ashamed.

She should have tried to contact Nyssa sooner. She should have known Nyssa would want to be informed should something have happened to Sara. Everything had happened so fast, and Felicity's instinct had been to get help from Oliver and John, the people threatening to turn them into the police. Not the person Sara trusted most, next to her.

"You are both in grave danger." Nyssa told her, voice lowered as if she didn't want Roy to overhear.

"We know," Roy spoke up, the tension back in his shoulders, and annoyance in his tone at being left out. "Why do you think she has an escort?"

"If you are to be Felicity's protection then I have arrived just in time." Felicity forced herself to ignore the sass Nyssa was giving and focus on the real problem. If there was danger enough to bring Nyssa to them, then it must be bad. "The man who shot Sara has been dispatched, but there will be others. A contract has been placed on both your lives. Assassins and mercenaries from all walks of life will be circling you until they draw blood."

"You just found out Sara was shot and you already killed him?" Felicity felt her head spin. "I guess the League really is good."

"Felicity, you must focus," Nyssa urged as she placed a hand on Felicity's shoulder. "I tracked you both while the man was dealt with. Had I known it was Sara who had been in his cross hairs I would have dealt with him myself."

"So you thought it was me who had been shot?" Felicity huffed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Who put the contract on them?" Roy voiced, coming closer to the conversation.

Nyssa puffed up her chest in defiance, not ok with sharing such information with someone she did not know or trust. Felicity could almost see the wheels in her well trained mind spinning and weighting the options. Roy was just a kid in a hoodie. How was he supposed to protect her beloved, and Felicity?

"We must leave," Nyssa turned, making her choice. "I know you feel as though you are safe in the hands of Starling City's Arrow, and his friends, but you are not." Felicity turned to look at Roy who did not seem to like where the conversation was heading or that Nyssa knew the Arrow was involved. "Only the League can protect you now."

"What league?"

"Nyssa's father owns a business," Felicity tried, hoping to put a cap on the questions and not piss off Nyssa, who could easily snap their necks – not that she would, but that she could. "It's a security business."

Roy shook his head, not believing her.

"Nyssa we can't leave," Felicity told her. "Sara's family is here."

"I believe the trouble Sara spoke of is in relation to the Chinese Triad," Nyssa paused, taking a beat off of Felicity's guilty expression. "They have used their available resources to place you and Sara at the highest priority. They mean to have you both killed by any means necessary."

Felicity shifted at the thought of what that meant. That meant it didn't matter if they had run or not back In Russia. Someone was going to try to kill them regardless.

"Their organization has been weakened by my father, but they still hold influence and power enough to complete this task."

"Then they are going to have a fight on their hands," Roy spoke up, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "The Arrow won't let that happen."

"The Arrow is a boy, not unlike yourself, who can merely keep the threat at bay for only so long." Nyssa snapped. "My father can offer both you and Sara clemency. He can protect you from harm. No harm would come to you while you are under his protection."

"By becoming members of the League?" Felicity knew it was coming.

From the moment Nyssa entered their lives she had a gut instinct it would only be a matter of time before she tried to lure them in. She hadn't said as much to Sara, had hoped she was wrong, but knew that being associated with the League of Assassins could only end one of two ways.

"If your father weakened their organization, how do they have enough power to put a high priority kill order on Sara and Felicity?" Roy asked.

Nyssa rolled her eyes, a very un-trained assassin like move in Felicity's opinion, before turning to him. "We believe they are being supported by another organization, one of great power. They are a great enemy of my father's."

"So one could make the leap that this is about your father, and not them?" Roy gestured to Felicity. "Meaning that, going with you and joining up with your father's business would only get them in more trouble?"

"Roy," Felicity warned.

"The Arrow can protect both Sara and Felicity and do it the right way." Roy challenged. "Without turning either of them into cold blooded assassins."

Felicity let her gasp die on her lips as Roy surprised her. Apparently the lie wasn't needed, and Roy knew more about what was going on than she realized.

"You do not understand the enemy you are making, boy."

"I think I do," Roy bit back.

"I will find Sara," Nyssa directed to Felicity. "And I will take you both home. Where you will be _safe_."


	13. Chapter 12

**AN: A big thank you to everyone who took the time to comment, fav, and/or follow the last chapter of the story. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the kind words and nods of encouragement!**

* * *

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

Felicity knew she may have sounded petulant as she stormed back into the safe house. She knew that there was a good chance she stomped her foot as the words left her mouth, and she was sure that Diggle and Sara were both looking at her with perplexed expressions.

Roy on the other hand understood her completely.

The younger man stood behind her in the doorway, his phone firmly in hand and his eyes drilling a hole into Sara. It was hard to tell who took their interaction with Nyssa worse.

Felicity felt like an idiot. All this time Nyssa had been plotting to make Sara a member of the League, and Felicity in extension. Nyssa hadn't _said_ as much, but Felicity felt all the pieces come together like one massive jigsaw puzzle she hadn't known she was supposed to be putting together.

Nyssa and Sara had been close from the moment Nyssa stepped into their lives. They were all secret glances and stolen moments in coat closets, holding onto secret burner phones and making clandestine meets. Felicity had always thought it was romantic. Scary, considering Nyssa's familial ties, but romantic all the same.

The League of Assassins stayed in the back of her mind as a possible threat, or ally. A group as powerful as them with the abilities they had would have made them fools to ignore.

But Nyssa was nice to her, and genuinely cared for Sara. She made Sara smile. Never had she suspected Nyssa had been planting seeds of the League this entire time.

"What happened?" Diggle took a step in their direction, away from his post by the window.

She saw the former soldier do a visual scan of her and then Roy, before setting his shoulders back.

"The Canary over there has some massively bad connections." Roy spoke up, glancing around Felicity's shoulder to meet Diggle's eyes.

"How could you do this?" The anger she felt from the moment Nyssa _whooshed_ away from them was subsiding and left the brutal sting of betrayal in its wake. She preferred the anger.

Sara began to pull at a stray piece of fabric in the cream blanket, which covered her legs, with a guilty expression written all over her face. The weariness of the past twenty four hours bringing dark circles under her eyes.

"I didn't want to worry you." Sara pieced out. "You aren't a fan of my ties to the League and I thought if you knew about the safe house you'd freak out."

Felicity felt the color wash out of her face and felt Roy noticeably tense behind her. _The safe house? _

"Wait," Roy dropped the phone to his side. "What about the safe house?"

"The safe house is the League's." Sara looked between the two with a furrowed brow. "What are _you_ talking about?"

Diggle took another step forward, crossing his arms in front of his chest, suspicion etching into his features. "What league?"

Felicity could only stare at her friend, hurt by all her omissions. Sara hadn't told her any of this – not about the safe house, not about Nyssa's offers, not about anything of importance.

"Sara's girlfriend is in the League of Assassins." Roy supplied. "We had a nice little chat with her on the way here."

"Nyssa's here?" Sara sat up straighter in her bed. "You saw her."

"Yeah." Felicity finally found her voice although it lacked her earlier gusto. "Apparently she was here to take us 'home' to the League."

"Felicity- "

"When were you going to tell me?" Felicity wanted to curse herself for the tears that began to fill her eyes. "Were you ever?"

She saw Roy and Diggle move the two steps across the room to what looked like a rundown kitchenette. At least they were trying to be discrete.

"Felicity, it's not like that." Sara pleaded, moving her feet so they were planted on the wood floor. "She made the offer, but I said no."

Felicity snorted as she swiped at the traitorous tear that fell from her eye. "Of course you did. That's why she's under the impression we'll just hop on board Air Evil Incorporated."

"I did." Sara defended.

"How can I believe you? How do I not know that this was both of your plan all along?" Felicity hurled, arm swinging as she paced away from Sara.

"You aren't serious." Felicity heard the tone of shock ringing clear. "Why are you giving me such a hard time about this? It's not like you don't have secrets."

Felicity squinted as she turned back around. "What secrets?"

"Oliver." One name, but hardly a secret. "Ever since the Queen Job you've been different. Distant even."

"So I've had an off month." Felicity defended.

"An off month?" Sara scoffed. "You have been secretly praying that Oliver would show back up in your life and give you an excuse to be 'normal.' You must have been overjoyed to find out he was the Arrow and could finally save you from this terrible life of crime."

"You have lost your mind." Felicity huffed before crossing to the window.

"Have I?" Sara challenged. "Or have I been seeing what you won't let yourself admit?"

Felicity refused to turn around. She refused to give Sara the satisfaction.

"That's why you made the deal with him while I was unconscious, and that's why you haven't tried to get us out of here yet." Felicity felt the tickle of guilt begin to furl up her spine. "You are hoping that he will rescue you and make you Mrs. Felicity Queen and you can get away from all the lies and deception you have been clinging to ever since your father left, and your mother died."

"Enough!" Felicity startled even herself as she spun around. "My feelings for Oliver Queen have nothing to do with the situation we are in right now with our only three options being death by contract killer, joining the League of Assassins, or death by League of Assassins seeing as how prison is now off the table based on our League of Assassins gold plated membership invitation."

She saw Diggle and Roy both take short steps towards to the two, but didn't move any further than the kitchen.

Sara on the other hand began to struggle to her feet, wobbly at best, but finally managed to stand tall.

"So do not turn this situation around on me when you are the one who has been treading a way more dangerous line with Nyssa and the League." Felicity took in a breath, trying to ignore the hurt that flashed through Sara's eyes. "I should have known this would happen because keeping secrets and pushing people away is your MO. I'm surprised you haven't run away from me yet. You have been pushing me away and keeping secrets from me just like you did your own family. You are too busy treating me like a sidekick or a little kid to actually respect me enough with the god damned truth, just like you did to them!"

The room went silent, not one person making a noise as Felicity struggled for a breath after her long winded monologue. The only sound to be heard were the traffic patterns outside of the window. Felicity saw the hurt on Sara's face, and knew it mirrored her own. She knew she went too far. Even their worst fights had never been this raw. They never actually yelled at one another, and they never said the things they knew would hurt the most.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Sara whispered. "Excuse me."

Felicity took a step to the side as Sara hobbled past her, arms hanging limp as she passed. Her glasses had begun to fog with the tears she refused to let fall. She hadn't expected saying any of those things to feel good, but it hurt worse than she thought.

Both Diggle and Roy seemed to shift awkwardly in the kitchen, unsure of how to proceed. They barely knew either woman, and seeing them argue like that probably hadn't been comfortable, or easy, for them. But then again, if they had known Felicity and Sara a little better she was sure the argument still wouldn't have been comfortable.

Felicity couldn't believe she yelled like that. She couldn't believe Nyssa al Ghul was in Starling City. She couldn't believe Oliver Queen was the Arrow and she couldn't believe her mentor and friend was a murderer.

The past forty eight hours had been a whole lot of unbelievable.

"You ok?" Diggle ventured closer to her, a hand coming up to her bicep.

She gave him a sad smile, and a tight nod of her head. It was all she could muster.

"We don't normally fight." Felicity told him. "At all."

Diggle didn't move or interrupt her, just maintained eye contact.

"We're usually very un-cat like." At his blank expression she continued. "Women, girls, the female gender overall get this reputation of being 'catty' but we are not."

"You're friends." Diggle filled in. "Even best friends fight sometimes."

Felicity shook her head. Friends had never really been a good enough descriptor for them. It never fully fit.

"We're more like sisters." Felicity supplied, feeling even more ashamed.

"Siblings fight the worst." His encouragement was admirable, Felicity thought. "They always find a way to overcome it."

"Hey guys," Roy called out, breaking the moment. "That van wasn't there when we pulled up."

Diggle turned to follow where Roy was looking out the window on the opposite wall. Felicity trailed behind, sparing one last glance at the bathroom door.

"There's no license plate."

"What does that mean?" Felicity asked. For all her genius she felt uncontrollably lost tonight.

"It could be the League." Roy turned to Diggle. "We should call Oliver-"

Diggle had just enough time to lunge in the direction of Roy and Felicity when a black arrow crashed through the window. He managed to tackle them both to the ground as shards of glass shattered to the floor around them.

"You ok?" Diggle breathed as he glanced to both Felicity and Roy from his spot on the floor.

Felicity looked up from where her hands were covering her head while Roy nodded at Digg, brushing glass off of his jacket.

"What the hell was that?"

Felicity watched Diggle rise to his feet to watch the van sped away from the building. Felicity hazard a guess about what had just happened.

Nyssa just helped Sara escape.

* * *

Once the bathroom door had shut behind her, Sara felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. She and Felicity never fought like that. They never made cruel remarks or aimed for the jugular. Sure they disagreed – it was only natural – but they never argued in that heated of a tone. They also never aimed for the other's weak spots.

Sara didn't know why, but she felt inclined to blame Oliver for this. He nearly destroyed one sibling relationship for her. What was one more?

"Damnit," Sara swore as she gazed into the mirror.

Her eyes were sunken in, her complexion a horrendous pallor that only came with a near fatal gunshot wound and patch work surgery in a Russian warehouse. Her knuckles were white from gripping the porcelain sink which was stained yellow from years of misuse and rust.

Diggle had been so kind as to relay the full history of events from the time Sara had been shot to them landing in Starling City. He only brushed over the details of Oliver and Felicity's apparent bond, yet she could tell from the non-judgmental look in his eyes that he wasn't nearly as worried about it as she was.

"It's not his fault." She made herself say out loud. It wasn't his fault, entirely, when she began sleeping with him all those years ago, and it wasn't his fault now.

"Talking to yourself again?" Sara swung around, wincing at the sharp pain that flashed through her abdomen at the motion.

Nyssa stood beside the open window, relief visibly present.

"Nyssa?" Sara whispered in disbelief.

"You are injured." Nyssa took a step to her, voice soft. "When I heard your message I feared a great many things. I thought I lost you."

Nyssa had been a tough, hard as nails force within her life from the moment they met, but there were still moments when she would demonstrate such a sense of vulnerability. Sara hadn't seen it often, but knew Nyssa was capable of so much emotion, so much love. It was one of the reasons Sara fell for her in the first place.

"I'm still here."

Nyssa nodded before swallowing over what Sara assumed to be a lump in her throat and anticipatory tears. She watched as Nyssa's eyes shift to the door.

"I understand your reluctance to do what is necessary." Sara crinkled her brow. "There are non-League members in one of our safe houses."

Sara felt the panic sweep through her. She hadn't thought Nyssa would find them. She didn't think she would be seeing any member of the League tonight.

"Please," Sara whispered with a break in her voice. "Don't hurt them."

Nyssa took a step forward, hand raised to cup Sara's cheek. "For you, Ta-er al-Sahfer, they will remain unharmed."

Sara's shoulders fell with relief.

"But I must get you to safety." Sara glanced to the door and then back to Nyssa. "There will be time to explain later."

She doubted she could convince Felicity to come with them just yet. She was sure Felicity needed more time to cool off and think about her options. They both did, but that didn't make it easier for Sara to leave her alone. They didn't leave each other, no matter the situation.

Sara had even told Nyssa once before, she and Felicity were a packaged deal. You don't get one without the other.

"A member of my father's organization will be keeping watch." Nyssa promised. "Felicity will be safe for the time being."

Sara let Nyssa begin to lead her to the still open window. "Thank you."

"I know of Felicity's importance to you." Nyssa pulled Sara closer to her, letting her forehead drop to her beloved's. "I will not let any harm come to either of you."

Sara let out a sigh, her breath mingling with Nyssa's. For the first time since they found out the Triad had betrayed them and Floyd was a killer, she felt safe.

"I've missed you." Sara's words sounded more like a promise when she heard them leave her breath. '_I miss you, I love you, I will never get used to being away from you_.'

None of which were lies or exaggerations. As Nyssa helped Sara out of the window and onto the street where a black van sat waiting for them, Sara could only wish that Felicity would one day understand.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Oliver barked out, suited up and ready to go, as Diggle, Felicity, and Roy rounded the corner from the alley way entrance.

By the looks on their faces, Oliver feared the response. Diggle looked more than frustrated while Felicity seemed to be in a state of shock. Roy on the other hand was ready to catapult into action.

"I think the right question would be 'what didn't happen?'" Roy rushed as he moved past Felicity towards the weapon shelf. "We should head out there if we are going to get Sara back."

Oliver turned to Felicity. "Sara's gone?"

Diggle shook his head towards Felicity, who seemed to be fighting back tears. The events of the evening only just catching up to her.

"Yeah, her League of Assassins girlfriend showed up and made an interesting request." Roy continued to chatter from his side of the lair, oblivious to the impact his words were having on Felicity. "Apparently, Sara and Felicity are going to be the newest recruits to the League so that the Triad's kill order won't matter anymore."

"Kill order?" Oliver questioned.

"Some other organization who doesn't like Sara's, girlfriend's, dad's organization hired the Tried and gave them money to put out high profile contracts on Sara and Felicity. Maybe if you picked up your phone you wouldn't have as many questions." Roy jabbed. Oliver threw him a heated glare causing Roy to back off and switch gears. "Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

Oliver glanced in the direction of the target wall. There were quite a few tennis balls and arrows decorating the previously blank wall.

"It was on silent."

"It doesn't matter now." Diggle asserted, hand on Felicity's shoulder as she lowered herself into the computer chair. "We have a few major problems on the horizon. The Triad and The League of Assassins being the worst ones."

"From what Nyssa said, there is a contract out on Felicity and Sara's lives issued by the Triad and some mysterious third party." Roy changed his tone, but Oliver never let his eyes move from Felicity. "She said that she was the only person who could save them and that the Arrow was a fool."

This time Oliver tried to hold back his glare directed to Roy who only held his hands up in surrender.

"Her father." Felicity's voice broke. "She said her father was the only one who could save us."

All three men turned to look to her.

"Who is Nyssa's father?" Diggle asked, his voice low with a level of certainty. Oliver imagined Diggle already had an idea who her father was.

Felicity raised her eyes to meet his. They were filled with tears which were confined, making them shine in a beautiful yet sad manner. They looked like diamonds.

"Her father is Ra's al Ghul." She let out a breath as Oliver and Diggle both tensed at the mention of the Demon's head. "And he does not make an offer, so much as a command."

Oliver turned to John, a panic beginning to swirl in his belly. He had only heard stories of Ra's al Ghul during his time away, same as John. It was said to meet the Demon's Head was to look in the eyes of a true evil. Not many people could live to tell the tale.

They were either recruited to the League of Assassins or killed on the spot. There were no other options.

"And now Sara is with Nyssa, probably about to join the ruler of all evil." Felicity let her gaze fall to the floor. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at her."

"Hey," Oliver spoke up, taking a step in her direction. Felicity brought her broken eyes to meet his, swiping an errant tear away from her cheek. "We will handle this."

"I'm not sure we can." Roy voiced this time. "I mean, the Triad is one thing, but this Ra's guy, and a possible third party hiring the Triad … are we even at that level?"

Diggle closed his eyes as he let himself lean against the computer desk beside Felicity. How had they only been after thieves a few days ago and were now facing the Triad and the League of Assassins?

Their biggest worry had been finding Felicity and turning her over to the police. Now they were trying to keep her alive and away from one of the most powerful organizations any of them had ever heard of.

They were definitely in over their heads.

"We'll take things one step at a time." Oliver told them, finding his strength as their leader.

"I guess finding Sara would be a good place to start." Diggle told him, a hand clasping onto Felicity's shoulder in comfort. "While we are doing that we can begin to monitor word about the Triad in Starling and try to get a lead on what they might be planning."

"I can go hit the streets and see if anything comes up." Roy offered as he took a step forward.

Oliver nodded his agreement before turning to Felicity who seemed to be confused, yet relieved. He wondered when the last time was that she worked with an actual team outside of Sara and Floyd. How had their dynamic been different from his team, his friends?

"Felicity, do you think you can run a trace on the traffic cameras to see if we can pick up the League van?" Diggle asked her, his voice steady.

Felicity turned to look at them, relief and a hint of guilt filled her eyes at their offers to help. "I am actually one step ahead of you."

Oliver watched as she turned in her seat and began typing on the keyboard. The computer sprang to life faster than it ever had before. A few different screens flew past the monitor before it finally landed on a satellite view of Starling City with two green dots, moving slowly towards the outer edge of the city.

"Is that a satellite view?" Roy asked.

"How did you do that so fast?" Oliver voiced at the same time as Roy.

Felicity smiled cockily as she sat back in her seat. "I'm just that good."

Diggle cleared his throat beside her with an amused glance in her direction.

"And I was able to plant trackers on Sara and Nyssa earlier tonight." Felicity shrugged as if it were the most obviously answer.

"How?" Roy asked in awe.

"A pick pocket is only good if they don't get caught." Felicity explained. "Turns out I'm very good."

Oliver tipped his head in amusement. She was a constant surprise.

"I'll head out to get information on the Triad." Roy turned to the door.

"Digg can you give our friends at A.R.G.U.S. a call?" Oliver asked. "See if they can give us any intel on who this third party might be."

Diggle began to nod when Felicity turned back in her chair. "You mean his wife?"

Both men let their stares go blank which only made her smile widen.

"You guys are terrible liars." She laughed before turning back in her seat. "Why don't I just hack into their mainframe? I'm sure I can gather more information that way than she can give to her husband."

Diggle turned to Oliver, a look of hesitation and pride mixed in his expression.

"Felicity, hacking one of our allies might not be the best course of action just yet." Oliver told her, making her fingers still above the keyboard. "We'll leave that as plan C."

Felicity rolled her eyes but went back to typing, a different dialogue box opening as she did.

"If you say so, but I'm just saying, I'm really good at what I do and I wouldn't even leave a trace that I was there. One time I hacked into Harrison Wells' personal computer when I was in Mexico. I mean, Harrison Wells is your genius's genius which pretty much makes me … unstoppable."

Diggle shook his head before turning to go make his call.

"But if you guys want to do this the hard way…" Felicity trailed off, a sugary sweet smile aimed at Oliver.

"We do." Oliver told her. "And on this side of the fence, it's called the _right_ way."

"Or the stubborn way." Felicity snorted under her breath, but Oliver heard her.

"Fel-ic-ity." He drew out.

Felicity spun in her chair, hands on her knees as she spoke. "I'm not going to look for nuclear codes or anything. Just information."

"Which Lyla is getting us." Oliver asserted, hands on his hips.

"She'll be stalled." Felicity stood from her seat. "You know it, and I know it. There's red tape and hoops to jump, and probably a pain in the ass supervisor who will give her crap and then want a million unreasonable favors from you if she gets wind of it."

Oliver hated to admit she was probably right. So he didn't.

"I'm just saying, you like my tech – right?" Felicity drawled as she caught Oliver's eyes. "If I'm going to be on 'Team Arrow,' then I should be allowed to use my skills."

Oliver cocked his head to the side with intrigue. "Who said you were on the team? And we don't call ourselves that."

"I just assumed since you took me to the super, secret basement of a nightclub location that meant I was in. I mean otherwise you guys are not just terrible liars but horrible secret keepers." She winked. "I'm chatty. I could just walked upstairs right now and start selling admission."

Felicity took a step towards to the stairs, but was halted by Oliver's arm wrapping around her waist. He meant it to stop her, although he didn't believe she had any intention of going upstairs.

Yet the moment his hand wrapped around waist he felt an instant surge of electricity. Judging by the way her pupils dilated and she took an exaggerated breath, he assumed she felt the same. It would be easy to lean forward just an inch to be closer to her. It would be easy to let his forehead touch hers and his hands trace up her arms until they reached the column of her neck or her silken hair.

It would be even easier to let his lips drop to hers and feel her breath against his own.

It would have been so easy, if she hadn't pulled away.

He watched her shake off whatever she had been feeling and pull herself just outside of Oliver's reach. With another swallow and a shake of her head, she gave him a tentative smile before turning back to the computer.

"I won't tell anyone your secret." She promised as she took her seat. "Besides. Who would I tell?"

Oliver frowned.

"What happened with Sara?" He asked, moving towards where she sat at the computer, staring at a green dot.

He watched her blink before she returned her eyes back to the console. The green dots still blinking bright.

"I got mad and I said some pretty hurtful things." Felicity turned in the chair, slouching as she did. "She got mad and fired back, so I took the cheap shots."

Oliver winced.

"It was bad." Felicity continued to explain. "I've just been letting everything build up for a long time and it's not her fault … but I took it out on her anyway."

"What have you been letting build?" Oliver asked as he took the chair beside her.

"Just that I feel like she doesn't trust me and has been treating me like a sidekick instead of a partner, which is crazy." She emphasized. "Sara just doesn't want to see me get hurt again."

"Speaking of getting hurt," Oliver segued. "How is your leg doing?"

Felicity stared at him for a moment before shaking the memory free from the most recent batch of bad news. "It's fine … It's kind of funny, in a not funny way, how getting flung out of a window is the tamest thing we've done in the past forty eight hours."

Oliver smiled at her attempt to joke, but noted her heart wasn't in it. "You and Sara will be ok."

"How do you know?" Felicity urged. "The things I said were horrible, and the things she said weren't untrue."

"What did she say?" He scooted closer to her in his chair.

"My heart hasn't been in our work lately." Felicity blushed. "Her reasoning for why is a bit off, but she was right. I haven't been finding the thrill of the chase as _thrilling_ anymore."

"What changed?" He asked in a soothing tone.

Felicity turned away from him and the computer to fix her eyes on the floor. "Last month was the anniversary of my mom's death and a couple days after that, I met you."

He didn't want to spook her. She looked so small and fragile in her computer chair as she told him the life events that had led up to Felicity feeling conflicted. He had been part of it.

"My mom always saw so much good for me, no matter where we came from." Felicity told him with a smile. "She would always say how I was too good for Vegas and tried to save all the money she could just to send me to school."

"She sounds like a good mom." He thought of his mom, recently paroled from her stint in prison. At least she was trying to change now.

"She was." Felicity's smile grew before it froze. "She would be so disappointed to see me now."

"Hey," Oliver put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "She would be more proud of you than you could imagine. You're brilliant, and funny, and despite your questionable ethics, you have a very big, very pure heart."

The smile his words brought to her lips sent a warmth spreading outward from his chest, engulfing him in the most comforting sense.

He almost missed it when she leaned forward, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek while her soft lips grazed the other.

"Thank you, Oliver." She murmured against his skin, pulling away only slightly.

He couldn't help his next action, and judging by the way she lingered close to him, her breath still warm on his skin, she wouldn't mind. Crossing the half an inch divide between them, he brought his lips to hers in a soft kiss.

Her lips immediately responded to his as she welcomed the feel of his lips against her own. With little urging he felt her lips separate and her tongue trace its way along his bottom lip. His hands desperately wanted to reach for something to hold until finally he settled on her hips, pulling her and her chair closer to him.

While the kiss started out soft and gentle, they began to pick up their speed. Her hands found their way along his neck and back, tracing out the scars she could not feel beneath the green leather of his suit while causing a sharp chill to race through his bloodstream and settle directly in the seat of his pants.

"Well isn't this cozy." The instant rush of cool air that greeted him as Felicity pulled herself out of his arms was as sobering as an ice cold bucket of water. "You know I thought to myself that maybe I was being a tad dramatic earlier and I should give you a chance to explain, but this … no this makes a whole lot more sense."

"Tommy." The sound of disappointment in his best friend's voice was crystal clear. To Tommy, who had not spent the past few days in and out of Russia with them, _this_ was something the old Oliver would do. Let the mission be damned for a pretty girl. "It's… "

"If you finish that sentence with 'not what it looks like,' I may have a tantrum right here." Tommy kept both hands in the air as if he they are physically keeping Oliver's words at bay. "Full disclosure."

Oliver let his glance travel between his friend and Felicity, who had not glanced up from the concrete flooring since Tommy first spoke. How could he explain what he was feeling to his friend with Felicity standing right there?

She looked as if a strong wind could knock her off kilter. Saying he was pretty sure he was falling for this woman, who he only officially met less than forty eight hours ago, would startle anyone.

Not to mention, the uncertainty he'd been feeling because, as he came to realize, he'd never been in love before. What he was feeling in that moment was incomparable to what he had felt in the past. It was consuming yet oddly calming – strengthening.

"I was going to say it's more complicated than what you are thinking." Oliver settled on.

Tommy shifted his weight and lowered his hands, a look of exhaustion clouding his eyes. "So you two are make out buddies now?"

Felicity's head shot up almost violently with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Why don't I give you guys a few minutes to chat?" She stuttered out as she backed away from both men.

Oliver could see her trajectory and wanted to stop her but he was too late as she walked right into the metal exam table, her hip hitting with a resounding 'bang.' It probably hadn't helped that it was the same side as her injured leg.

The shock on her face was visible before the pain even registered.

"Wow, ok," she sputtered with a wince. "So much for sneaking out unnoticed."

"Felicity, are you ok?" He tried to step towards her but she waved her hands in his general direction.

"I'm fine, seriously, I'm ok." She gave them a forced laugh. Tommy, he can see, covered his own mouth while holding his own laugh back. "I'll just go upstairs and uh, sit in silence while I think about my most recent life choices."

Oliver wants to stop her. He wants to tell her that she doesn't have to run away from Tommy. Tommy was harmless once you got to know him and meet him under less shocking circumstances. He was still the kid who rented a football stadium for a kickball game – multiple times.

"Felicity." He tried once more, but she was already moving in the direction of the stairs with a limp.

As the metal door at the top of the stairs clinked shut Tommy finally let his laugh surface.

"This is too good." Tommy clutched his side as he continued to laugh while looking Oliver straight in the eye. "Now I understand why Diggle doesn't hate this girl."

"What?" Diggle doesn't hate Felicity. Oliver's pretty sure he's one step away from adopting her as a kid sister.

"When we thought she was 'Meghan' he and I both hated the idea of finding her because we were so afraid your moon eyes would be easily swayed to a new life of crime and vigilante-ism." Tommy swallowed his laugh, but the mirth is still present in his eyes. "But she is hardly criminal of the year, all jumpy, babbling and hitting her hip off of a table."

"Are you done?" Oliver asked with less amusement than Tommy, but Tommy only continued to laugh. At least Tommy was coming around, he hoped.

* * *

She couldn't explain what was happening between her and Oliver. In fact, what had been happening between them since they met over a month ago was more mystery than explainable fact. None of it made sense.

They met once for a total of twenty minutes. She lied to him and stole his diamonds while he went out and fought crime at night. He was a hero, she was a criminal. They were hardly healthy, fairy tale material.

Yet the idea of being with him made her toes tingle and her heart ache in the most delicious way possible. It was all just right. Standing in the quiet nightclub he owned, with him in the basement explaining away their connection to his best friend, she just felt right and at peace. Slightly anxious, but better than she had moments before the kiss. He made her heart want to beat its way out of her chest, but she didn't think she would have minded. He made her feel like that.

No matter what was happening with Sara, Oliver made sense.

"Hello Felicity."

Felicity froze, both hands on the bar.

The dulcet sound of an unamused Chien Na Wei behind her made her heart pound, for an entirely different reason.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**


	14. Chapter 13

**AN: Thank you all for the amazing feedback on the last chapter. It really made my day! This chapter jumps around a bit, but picks up right where we left off. **

**I hope you all enjoy, and I'd love to hear what you think!**

* * *

"Oh my god."

The urge to vomit had never been more present for Felicity Smoak.

After following Floyd all the way to Europe, and joining him and Sara, she had been thrust into a variety of situations each more terrifying than the last. A gunshot wound saving Sara, and being swung out of a window as an explosion went off behind her, were just two examples.

Yet Chien Na Wei, _China White_, chief enforcer/lead member of the Chinese Triad made Felicity want to simultaneously crawl into a hole and punch something.

"Miss Smoak." Chien's voice was soothing in a homicidal serial killer way. Very calm. Very creepy. "I believe we had an arrangement in Russia. An arrangement you failed to follow through on."

Felicity turned in her spot, as slow and non-threatening as possible. She was pretty sure she was the epitome of non-threatening, but nonetheless she preferred to avoid a bullet to the head or a knife in the gut.

"Where is the egg?" Chien enunciated while leaning close to Felicity.

"In Russia." Felicity swallowed hard over her words. "Where's Floyd?"

The bravado was an act, of course it was. It always was. Sara would mutter about Felicity having a death wish in dangerous situations, but really it was only Felicity trying to protect herself. She was younger than the rest of her MIT cohort, by a couple years at least. She was smarter than them too.

One of the first weeks of her first year at MIT, the RA approached each room with some activity she was planning, a mini self-defense class. Of course it sounded lame and cliché for all the students on their hall to gather together for a rousing social activity. Most of the students rolled their eyes, including Felicity.

But the night of the program, the RA bumped into Felicity on her way back from the computer lab, and volunteered Felicity to join her. The class mostly a discussion on how to stay safe at night versus actual self-defense, but one piece of advice stayed rooted in her mind.

If someone was coming at you – yell.

Swear, flail your arms, scream, anything that resembled someone having a loud nervous breakdown. It would scare them aware. The only reason Felicity remembered it was because she thought it was stupid, but over the years Felicity took on that approach when dealing with evil doers. With her own modifications of course.

When she was scared of someone she stood straighter, talked louder and more offensively, and acted tougher than she was. She couldn't throw an effective punch, but she knew how to talk. That was her weapon of self-defense.

"Mr. Lawton is none of your concern at the moment." Chien told her while bringing a manicured finger to trail down Felicity's cheek. Her nails were even white, Felicity thought sardonically. "What _is_ your concern is your failure."

Felicity opened her mouth to retort as Chien's hand clamped around her neck, the same manicured nails digging into the skin of her throat.

"Your courage is normally amusing, however in this instance your witty quips would be better suited as silence."

Chien pushed Felicity away from her with force enough to propel her into the bar. Felicity tried to stabilize herself as her midsection hit the stools lined up against the bar, but failed. She found herself knocking over at least three barstools before crumpling to the ground while clutching her side.

"You are such a bitch." Felicity bit out.

"Miss Smoak, the individuals I work for are very eager to get their hands on a highly regarded weapon. They've been looking for it for some time now, and discovered the perfect opportunity to retrieve it." Chien explained as she paced in front of Felicity, who had yet to move from her spot on the floor.

Felicity had no interest in dying. She knew getting out of the situation would be her best bet of surviving. She wasn't a fighter, she couldn't hold her own against the Chinese Triad. She needed help.

"Then you failed them in Russia, and they lost their opportunity." Chien finished with a disappointed glare.

"How is a Faberge egg a weapon?" She couldn't help the snort she let out. "Did it have like a magic golden yolk inside?"

Felicity swallowed her laugh at the blank stare Chien was giving her. It probably wasn't the best time to joke.

"Miss Smoak, I do not believe you understand the gravity of your situation." Felicity wondered how someone who sounded so board could sound so terrifying at the same time.

No matter how monotone she sounded, Felicity did hear the threat in her voice. Maybe if she shifted her weight in the right direction she could use one of those barstools to knock that white hair right off her head, she thought to herself. That would probably require more upper body strength than she had.

"No, I think knowing there's a contract out on my life was suitably received."

"The contract was a mere formality." Chien drawled on, this time crouching low to Felicity's level. "It was a way for my employers to assure you _and_ that noisy bird you travel with knew there was no where you could go to hide from them."

Felicity couldn't help the lump that formed in her throat, or the sweat that began to form on the palms of her hands. Something about the clichéd statement made Felicity twitch. Who the hell had they pissed off?

Felicity was about to respond, probably not one of her better judgment calls, when she caught a flash of light out of the corner of her eye. Straightening in her spot on the floor she took in an unsteady breath. Oliver was standing around the corner, arrow notched in his bow as he aimed at Chien's back.

"Why did they want the egg so badly?" Felicity asked, not interested in the answer as much as keeping the woman distracted long enough for Oliver to do what he did best.

"Do I look like I'm stupid enough to tell you the inner workings of my diabolical plans?" She cocked her head to the side. "Do you think I don't know Mr. Queen has an arrow aimed directly at my back?"

"How-?" Felicity whispered, mouth wide in shock.

She couldn't complete her sentence before Chien grasped her by the neck again and in one fluid motion had Felicity standing straight in front of her as a shield.

"It's been a while." She greeted Oliver in an almost familiar way.

Felicity watched as he clenched his jaw but did not lower his weapon. She didn't blame him. Oliver was a good shot – a perfect shot – if he dropped that bow she was definitely dead.

But judging from the way his eyes were drilling into her captor, she would say he wasn't about to give up his advantage willingly. Even though she had seen him dressed as Arrow, and had even been party to a daring escape, she had never seen him in this light.

She was beginning to understand why the criminals of Starling City feared him, and why he was so ruthlessly hunted by the police. The look in his eyes as he held his bow and arrow perfectly straight was almost feral. There was a primal sense of calm in his demeanor, similar to Chien's voice. The calm was what did it.

He looked as if he could snap her neck in seconds – China White's neck, not hers.

"I'm not surprised you are already suited up in that ostentatious outfit of yours." Chien's breath was hot against her ear, clearly demonstrating to Oliver just how difficult that shot would be if he took it.

Felicity was actually a bit surprised the other members standing with their hands on their weapons, hadn't moved into action. There must have been three guards earlier that she had caught sight of. Why weren't they charging?

All three men, she noted, remained in position flanking China White, but weren't making any moves without her ok.

"Let. Her. Go." Oliver bit out, his jaw tight and his eyes dark as he spoke.

He actually made a tremor of fear_, or was it arousal_, race up Felicity's spine. Combine that voice with the outfit and Felicity didn't think she could get any work done in that lair of theirs… not that they were asking her to, or that was the appropriate thought to be having while Chien Na Wei held her hostage.

"I was just telling Miss Smoak that she caused my employer a great deal of trouble." Chien shrugged behind her. "Restitution must be paid."

"Not by her." Oliver stepped forward. "Take me instead."

The shock she felt at his statement lasted all but a millisecond as his words sunk in. Felicity wanted to scream at him. She wanted to do whatever she could to tell him he was crazy. What could he have possibly been thinking? He couldn't offer himself up like that. Not for her.

Chien must have found the idea just as ludicrous because she began to laugh, her grip around Felicity's neck loosening only slightly.

"What makes you think my employer wants her alive?" Felicity winced.

Oliver lowered his bow this time as he took a step forward, putting him directly in line with Triad Man in Black number one.

"You had ample time to kill her before I got here, but you didn't." Oliver explained. "That must mean you need her for something."

"And how, _if_ you are correct, would you take her place?" The woman behind her all but cackled. "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

Oliver stood a little straighter, arrow in one hand and bow in the other. Why wasn't he doing anything?

"I remember the boy in Hong Kong who all but failed that city. Now you think you can save another? You think aiming a bow and arrow at me in hopes of killing me when I wasn't looking would help you save this woman?" Chien baited. "I guess I ruined your element of surprise. A tip for next time, don't stand directly in the line of sight of someone wearing glasses."

"Who said I was the surprise?"

Felicity felt Chien tense in confusion for the briefest of seconds before she felt a whoosh of air and heard a loud clang behind her. The nails around her neck disappeared as the woman crumpled to the floor behind her.

"Surprise, bitch." Felicity looked behind her to see Tommy Merlyn, serving tray in hand, and looking quite proud of himself.

Felicity barely had a chance to blink as the motion of Oliver throwing punches and using his bow to knock the Triad thugs to the ground caught her attention.

"Tommy, get her out of here." Oliver grunted as he took a punch.

Felicity started moving towards him without thinking, but felt a pull on her arm towards the hallway Oliver had been hiding in. She needed to help him, or Tommy needed to help him. They couldn't just leave Oliver.

"Come on." Tommy urged as he pulled her with him.

Felicity tried to twist in his grasp at where Oliver was struggling with the three assailants. "But Oliver!"

Tommy pulled Felicity closer to him, angling her so he was between her and Oliver. She felt him push her against what must have been the door to the basement, if the panel shoved into her lower back was any indication.

Tommy scooted low and brought both hands up to her face so he could direct her view to him.

"Hey, hey." Tommy hushed her, trying to gain her attention even though there was a flurry of movement behind them. "He's ok. Oliver can handle this ok, he just can't handle it with you getting yourself thrown in the middle."

Felicity closed her eyes with the wish of blocking out of the noises of grunts and bar stools being tossed around.

"My job is to get you downstairs and safe, ok." Tommy told her. "We are going to be ok."

Felicity nodded, eyes still closed, as Tommy let out a sigh of relief.

She had just opened her eyes when a flash of movement caught her attention once more. It was Chien, pushing herself to her knees. In a movement the woman shouldn't have been able to make in her condition, Chien pulled a gun and aimed in their direction. No, not in their direction, but at Tommy, who still stood in front of her while attempting to comfort her.

The image of a random assailant drawing his weapon on Sara flashed through her mind. Whether Sara could have defended herself or not that night, Felicity could never have sat still while someone tried to kill _her_ best friend. Nor would she stand idly by with a gun aimed at Oliver's.

"Get down!" Felicity shouted as the gun went off.

She used all the force she could muster to shove Tommy Merlyn as hard as she could, losing her balance in the process. As her hands braced themselves against the dance floor she could only hope that she got Tommy out of the way.

* * *

"But in all seriousness," Tommy drawled out with mirth still present in his eyes. "At least she got the computer to work."

Oliver rolled his eyes as Tommy leaned over the console to inspect her work.

"Oh yeah, she must have used the ram hard drive with the gigawatt mega processor." Tommy leaned back with an exaggerated air of pride.

"You're an idiot." Oliver muttered as he pushed himself off of the medical table. "And have the worst timing."

Tommy shrugged. "I really wanted to make up and exchange friendship bracelets again before Diggle swooped in and took my spot as your favorite BFF."

Oliver rolled his eyes and shook his head. Tommy was enjoying catching Oliver and Felicity a little too much. So much so he was forgetting his previous anger. That wasn't exactly a bad thing, though.

"Don't tell me he already did?" Tommy's queried. "Damn it, Diggle."

"You're an ass," Oliver told his friend as he glanced down at his now vibrating cell phone to see Roy's picture pop up. The kid had just left to do recon work. Calling with information on the Triad so soon couldn't have been good.

Oliver held his hand up to tell Tommy to pause their conversation knowing he couldn't ignore the call with so many threats hanging over their heads.

"What did you find?" Oliver skipped the pleasantries as he swiped over the speakerphone button.

"Get out of there!" Roy's voice shouted over the hum of his Ducati. "The Triad knows Felicity is there! They are on their way!"

Oliver didn't wait for Roy to go any further as he tossed the phone to Tommy and moved to the computers that were still running the assortment of searches Felicity set up earlier. Thankfully she left the security feed of the club up behind the various dialogue boxes.

He was vaguely aware of Tommy talking to Roy in the background as the image of China White crouched low to the ground in front of a defenseless Felicity popped up. His history with China White was long and varied, and somehow managed to span multiple continents.

Meeting her was an accident, a terrible twist of fate that haunted him for about five years. When they met again in Starling City, after his return, it had taken her only a handful of interactions to realize the hooded vigilante was him. He still wasn't certain how she pieced it together, but at any rate, she still knew his identity.

But none of that mattered at the moment. What did was the bitch he hadn't been able to put down threatening someone he cared for.

"What are you going to do?" Tommy's voice was loaded with trepidation and disapproval. It was as if Tommy could see the thoughts flashing through the red tint of his mind.

"What I have to." Oliver bit out, clenching his jaw and fists at the same time. The leather covered hands tightened over his knuckles in a familiar way.

Tommy's sigh behind him would have, in normal circumstances, stopped him from reacting in an overzealous way. In a way befitting of the Hood, not the Arrow.

"We could distract her, get Felicity out of there." Tommy urged as he stepped in Oliver's path towards his bow and arrow. "I can call Detective Lance, and you wouldn't have to kill her."

Oliver knew Tommy meant well. He knew his best friend meant to keep him on a righteous path, but what he didn't know was that Oliver would never be a 'good' man. Not the way Tommy wanted him to be. Oliver's hands were covered in the blood of hundreds of people, way more than Felicity's ever could be. More than Tommy could comprehend.

"There has to be a better way." Oliver glanced back to the monitor and knew that there was some truth to Tommy's words.

If he went up there, arrows flying loose, there was a good chance Felicity would get caught in the crossfire. He couldn't let that happen.

"I have a plan, but I need you to do exactly as I say." Oliver turned to Tommy with desperation.

His plan wasn't a good one, it barely qualified as a plan, and it most certainly put Felicity _and_ Tommy in danger.

But it was all he had.

Tommy nodded, a sliver of hope dancing in his eyes at the thought of having distracted Oliver from the kill he had been envisioning. Oliver would have felt guilty for deceiving his friend if it hadn't been Felicity above them, defenseless, with a homicidal maniac.

* * *

Tommy held his breath as he crouched low against the back wall of the bar. Oliver acting as the distraction was a bad idea, he couldn't help but think. The person with real survival skills should be the one sneaking into a mobster surrounded club, not him.

But Oliver told Tommy he was needed in the club. In China White's sight. If Tommy was the one to go up there, he would be shot on the spot. That would help no one involved, especially him and Felicity.

Still, Oliver should have just cloned himself, Tommy thought. Better Oliver be the action hero than the no experience, quick witted, Tommy Merlyn.

"Not by her." Tommy heard Oliver speak in a passionate tone of voice. "Take me instead."

He felt a shudder run down his spine at how moved Oliver's voice all for a girl he technically knew for all of two or three days. The man out there was not like the Oliver he knew or grew up with. The man who cheated on women for the hell of it, or used them to his own means, had been more of a fixture in his life than the more recent version of Oliver.

This Oliver was different.

He knew it downstairs when he saw Oliver's face at Felicity's capture, and he knew it when Oliver first brought her back after Russia. This Oliver, who was dangerous and unpredictable, was in love.

"What makes you think my employer wants her alive?" Tommy winced. Of course she would goad the man with the bow and arrow.

"You had ample time to kill her before I got here, but you didn't." Oliver's voice was steady with only a slight edge. "That must mean you need her for something."

"And how, if you are correct, would you take her place?" The woman he still had yet to meet let out a shriek of laughter which was reminiscent of nails on a chalk board. "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

Tommy glanced around, almost forgetting his role. He was supposed to pop up at the last minute and be the distraction before running, with Felicity, for cover. Listening to Oliver try to shake a seemingly unshakable mobster down was not what he was instructed to do.

There, just under the counter was a serving tray. One he would have to talk to his employees about later, seeing as how the trays were all supposed to be in the back to be cleaned at the end of the night.

"I remember the boy in Hong Kong who all but failed that city. Now you think you can save another? You think aiming a bow and arrow at me in hopes of killing me when I wasn't looking would help you save this woman?" Tommy grasped onto the serving platter a little harder. _What a bitch_. "I guess I ruined your element of surprise. A tip for next time, don't stand directly in the line of sight of someone wearing glasses."

"Who said I was the surprise?"

There it was, his cue.

With lightning fast reflexes he would swear he didn't have, Tommy shot up from behind the counter and threw all his weight into his swing. As the tray knocked the woman with white hair to the ground Tommy couldn't help but feel the slightest bit proud of himself. He was like a real member of the team now.

"Surprise, bitch."

Felicity looked up to see Tommy Merlyn with a look of total shock and her mouth wide open. She probably was expecting Roy or Diggle. Someone who actually used their muscles for something other than opening the pickle jar.

"Tommy, get her out of here." Oliver grunted as he took a punch off to the side.

Tommy saw Felicity take an urgent step towards where Oliver was fighting before he remembered his job still wasn't over. He had to get her out of the way so Oliver could focus. If she was still there, she could still get hurt, which wouldn't help Oliver _not_ kill the men he was pummeling with his bow and fists.

"Come on." Tommy reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the basement door.

Felicity tried to twist in his grasp, her body weight almost knocking him off balance. "But Oliver!"

She sounded so desperate as she pleaded with him to let her stay and help. He couldn't help but parallel their reactions of the other being hurt or in danger. Oliver had also never had 'that' before either. He never had the girlfriend who would have done almost anything to make sure he was safe, or put his needs above her own. It had always been about changing the bad boy.

So Tommy did what he thought he would want someone to do for Laurel should the situation have been different. He pulled her closer and held her tight so he could make eye contact. He needed to get her focus off the fight and onto something else. Something safer.

He hadn't even realized they made it to the basement door until Felicity winced at the panel behind her. He would apologize for that later.

"Hey, hey." He tried to gain her attention once more her. "He's ok. Oliver can handle this ok, he just can't handle it with you getting yourself thrown in the middle."

He wasn't lying. Oliver could handle just about anything whether they liked it or not. He would survive this just as he had survived every other messed up thing he had yet to tell them about. He trusted Oliver, his best friend, to survive.

"My job is to get you downstairs and safe, ok." He tried to comfort her, but still let her know they needed to move. "We are going to be ok."

The fight was still going on and they were still, technically, in the danger zone. He felt relief wash through him as Felicity nodded her agreement. Finally, something would go their way tonight.

She had just opened her eyes, him offering her an understanding smile, when her entire body went rigid.

_Oh god, had Oliver been hurt? _

"Get down!" Felicity shouted as the sound of a gun going off echoed through the club.

The terrifying thought of someone aiming (and shooting) a gun at Oliver flashed through his head only a millisecond before he felt the slight blonde in front of him shove him with all her weight to the ground.

As loud and active as the club had been through the turmoil and urgency of the fight and the attempted escape, it was now silent. Maybe it was the ringing in his ears that was drowning out the sounds of Oliver's terrified cry of 'No.' Or maybe it was the feel of pain blossoming through his right arm that was overshadowing the image of Oliver getting knocked to the ground with one solid punch.

No matter the reasoning, the action and the adrenaline he had been feeling was all but gone.

From the look of it, he wasn't the only one either. Felicity Smoak was face down on the club floor, unmoving in her spot.

Tommy glanced over to where Oliver groaned and was making an attempt at getting to his feet. Then something struck Tommy like a slap across the face.

They were alone. The three of them were the only people in the club.

"Felicity." Oliver rushed out in a hard tone from where he stood near the bar.

Tommy rolled over, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, until he was next to her. She pushed him out of the way. The person he had said hurtful things to, and about, earlier that evening had thrown him to the floor when a bullet would have most likely killed him – probably anyway.

"Hey." Tommy whispered as he made an attempt to roll her over onto her back.

There was no bullet wound, Tommy exhaled in relief as Oliver crouched low to join them. There was however a bright red bump on her forehead from where she must have hit the floor.

"Felicity, come on." Oliver urged as he cupped her cheek, careful not to jostle her any more than she already had been. "Open your eyes."

Tommy didn't feel it would have been appropriate to talk at seeing Oliver stare so intently at Felicity, or how careful he was being with her. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

But there was something very suspicious going on. The Triad members were gone, all of them.

Where had they gone? How did they get away so quickly? Were they coming back?

"Frack." Her voice was low, and seemed to be caught over what could be pain from the bump on her head, but she was awake.

"Oh thank god." Oliver closed his eyes briefly before smiling wide at the blonde whose face was crinkled in confusion.

"Did the – Is Tommy ok?" She asked as she tried to push herself up.

"I'm right here." Tommy spoke up, giving a wave despite the fact that she was curling her body into Oliver's. "You saved my life, or at the very least kept me from having a painful flesh wound."

Felicity groaned in response as Oliver's arms came up to circle around her. Tommy wondered if either of them realized what they were doing. They had only just kissed less than twenty minutes ago, and had moved away from each other in the most awkward fashion.

Now Oliver was holding her tight against his chest, his lips grazing her forehead and the top of her head in a careful manner, while she kept hold on his jacket, as if she was never letting go.

**Thank you for reading!**


	15. Chapter 14

**AN: I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter. My personal life has been a bit of a mess lately and my muse just was not cooperating. Thank you all for your reviews, favs, and follows on the last chapter. It means so much to see readers enjoying this story!**

**The last portion of this chapter may seem a little confusing and I wasn't sure how much I wanted to reveal just yet, but all will come out soon.**

**Again, thank you for reading!**

* * *

"You ok?" Her voice was soft and calmer than she really felt.

Being thrown into a bar, held hostage, and shot at had been exhausting and exhilarating. In a terrifying way. Not to mention the excitement of the activities that had preceded the events in the club.

Felicity could say that she lived a life of intrigue and mystery, of action and adventure, as a jewel thief/computer hacker. She and Sara traveled all over the world wearing fancy clothes and having more 'homes' than any two people should have.

They robbed some of the world's most prestigious companies, sweated figurative, _and literal_, bullets on a regular basis, and outsmarted nearly everyone they met.

Felicity's life was not calm or easy-going by any means.

Yet, the events starting in Russia and across the Pacific, all the way to Starling City, had left her breathless.

Oliver raised his eyebrows in disbelief at her comment. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"You're the one who took all the punches." Felicity shrugged her shoulders in response. "I just hit my head."

He leaned forward on the bar stool, inching closer to where she sat facing him. His lips tilted up in a small grin, while his eyes seemed to fix on her lips.

Suddenly self-conscious, Felicity took a sharp breath into her lungs which felt oddly empty. She also noted how close their chairs were to each other. They were so close that their knees kept bumping together.

"I'm glad you're ok." Oliver breathed out in a low whisper, his eyes dark with an untold emotion. Was it worry or fear that he held in his eyes?

"Me too." She rushed out, feeling the need to add something to the conversation. "I mean, I'm glad _you_ are ok, too."

He smiled at her again, this time his eyes seeking hers.

She couldn't explain it, and she wasn't sure if she wanted too. How could two people so fundamentally different that one had tried to steal from the other have a connection this intense? Just the thought of being near him was enough for her.

She felt so… happy with him.

But happiness had never lasted long for her. The other shoe would drop eventually, just like it did with her father, Cooper, her mother, Floyd, and now Sara too.

Felicity knew above anything else that she wasn't meant for the happy ending.

With that reminder blaring loud in her mind she let herself lean back in her chair, away from Oliver. She felt bad when she saw his features morph into ones of confusion as she pulled away from him.

"Felicity …."

But he never got to finish that sentence as the main door to Verdant slammed against the wall with a loud bang. Oliver jumped from his seat in an instant to place himself in front of Felicity. She barely had time to blink between Oliver the puppy and Oliver the trained fighter.

"Are we late?" John Diggle rounded the corner, gun drawn and lowered to the floor.

She watched Oliver's shoulders soften before another woman and two men came into view behind Diggle. He straightened right back up and took a step back, closer to her. It was as if he was minimizing the space between them, shortening the distance he would need to travel if he needed to protect her.

"Oliver." The woman with brown hair spoke warmly to Oliver, but that did nothing to improve his obvious protective mood.

"Lyla." His voice was almost as tight as his posture. "Thank you for coming, but as you can see, we have it handled."

Diggle stood behind the woman, Lyla, and was now directing a questioning glance at Oliver and Felicity. He was clearly unaware, just like her, why Oliver was wound tighter than normal.

Lyla gave him another warm smile before holstering her weapon that Felicity hadn't realized had been in her hand. "Oliver, I'm going to need you to step aside."

Felicity tried to peek around Oliver's broad shoulders, but she felt him tense even more at her movement.

"A.R.G.U.S. has a few questions for Miss Smoak."

And it all became suddenly clear from the look of realization on Diggle's face. They weren't here to help. They were here to arrest her.

There it was … The shoe was dropping, just like she knew it would.

* * *

When Sara was a young girl she begged her parents for a canary. The teacher had been talking about birds in her science class that week and Sara decided she wanted one. Her parents had refused at first but Sara knew she could wear them down, slowly but surely.

She started by cutting pictures of birds out of her science book, and Laurel's too, to hide around the house for her parents to find. Of course when her parents realized the origin of the pictures – due to Laurel's screaming about getting detention, or expelled, because of what Sara did – they punished her for a month.

When that punishment lasted all of thirty six hours, Sara then found a stack of magazines in her mother's home office and repeated the process. She even took to scanning the neighborhood for any birds she could bring home, but they all flew away too fast.

Finally one afternoon, her father came home from work to find Sara crying on the front porch. It had been Sara's plan all along to eventually turn on the waterworks to get her way, but this time it it hadn't taken much effort.

She remembered going out into her backyard to play on the swing set which had seen better days, only to find a robin, dead, at the base of the slide.

When she explained this to her father, through hiccups and a runny nose with tears still streaming down her red face, he seemed to cave right there on the front stoop to their family home. Without even going inside to discuss it with her mother, he picked Sara up in his arms and carried her to his car.

Sara always loved seeing her father when he came home from work in his uniform. She would play with all the buttons and pins that adorned her father's chest, while he would put his hat on her small head. He always looked like a superhero in his uniform, so strong, so brave.

And when he packed the car up with her canary and its cage, she knew he definitely was one.

Years later, after Sara had begun to work with Floyd, she hadn't picked her nickname. She hadn't been the one to have a moment of clarity to re-name herself 'Canary.'

It hadn't been the sense of home or of her family that drew her to the alias. It wasn't the memory attached to the stupid yellow bird she loved with all her heart. The bird who the rest of her family hated because of the constant noise it made.

Her alias came from Floyd. A man who had taken her in, trained her, mentored her, and lied to her. A man who lied to Felicity and took advantage of the young girl's grief to turn her into a criminal. He betrayed them both, and seemingly sold them out to the Triad.

Yet all Sara could think of when she thought of Floyd was that he had named her the Canary and put her on the path she was on. The path that felt most right.

What did that say about her?

"Thank you." Sara lifted her head to see Nyssa in her doorway talking to someone clothed in black robes, their face obscured. "You are dismissed."

Nyssa didn't call her Canary. Nyssa called her Ta-er al-Asfer. It meant "canary" but it sounded much more beautiful coming from Nyssa's lips.

Felicity had become Sara's best friend, but Nyssa was someone else entirely. Nyssa was the person who made Sara feel most alive. She could bring such joy to Sara's life just with a subtle tilt of her lips. It was the kind of smile she tried to hide, but couldn't hold it all the way in.

Everything about Nyssa made Sara happy.

"Hey," Sara spoke up from her spot on the ornate bed linens. They were probably an unimaginable thread count to feel as good as they did.

Nyssa let a smile grace her lips as she turned to face Sara, but Sara caught the frown she tried to mask. Nyssa always had this little crinkle in her forehead when she was troubled about something. It was miniscule to most, but Sara caught it every time.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked, a weariness settling into her bones at the prospect of yet another threat.

The threats were supposed to stop by now. She was safe with Nyssa. Everything was supposed to start working out now. She knew it was childish to try and hope for a life of peace with Nyssa, but she couldn't help it. She just wanted to be calm for a couple of days.

"It appears the member tasked with keeping watch over Felicity observed a Triad attack on her life." Sara pushed herself up into a sitting position, the bed sheets she had been admiring falling into a pile on the floor. "Sara, you need your rest."

"You just told me Felicity was attacked." Sara resisted Nyssa's worried glance as she steadied herself on her feet. Where had Nyssa put her shoes? "I need to make sure she is ok."

"She was not injured in the attack." Nyssa told Sara with a hand on her arm. "Their plan was interrupted before any harm befell Felicity."

Sara whipped her head to glare at Nyssa. Nyssa promised Felicity would be safe. Nyssa said that she had a guy watching over Felicity and that no one would hurt her. That was the only reason Sara thought she could leave her friend.

"Why did your guy just 'observe'?" Sara bit out. "You said he observed the attack, not that he interrupted it."

Nyssa looked bored in her response, which only furthered Sara's anger more. "Commanding the League of Assassins, while my birthrate, is not within my power. To command a member of the League to spring into action to save someone who has refused their offer would be to abuse my position."

"You promised no harm would come to her." Sara reiterated in desperation. "I can't leave her without knowing she is going to be ok, and now the Triad is still after her … "

Nyssa raised a hand to cover Sara's lips, a soothing sigh of comfort floating between them.

"I have not forgotten my promise to you, Ta-er al-Asfer." Sara closed her eyes as Nyssa spoke, the combination of pain from her abdomen and mental frustration starting to weigh down on her. "Felicity is safe and is in the arms of the Arrow. He did not fail her."

Sara blinked her eyes open. Felicity was safe with Oliver for now, but for how much longer? The Triad attacked Felicity while she was in his care. They hadn't gone after Sara, who was with the League. How much longer could Sara let Felicity be out there on her own?

"She's my best friend, Nyssa." Sara cringed at the errant tear now tumbling down her cheek. "She's all the family I have, really. If anything happens to her-"

"Sara," Nyssa hushed her once more, placing both hands on Sara's cheeks while staring into her beloved's eyes. "We will keep Felicity safe, but you need your rest."

Sara nodded, not quite sure if she really did. What Sara needed was to be sure that Felicity was safe. That they both were safe. It had been a mistake to split up like the way they had, and she didn't know how she was supposed to wait to make sure Felicity wasn't going to die out there on her own.

* * *

"Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?" Tommy demanded from behind the counter of the bar.

Oliver glanced over his shoulder at where Tommy stood, a bag of ice in one hand and a towel in the other. Tommy had left only a couple minutes earlier to retrieve the supplies from the kitchen when Diggle, Lyla, and two suited A.R.G.U.S. agents made their descent on the club.

"Merlyn, you remember my wife." Diggle addressed Tommy with a step in his direction.

Tommy shook his head before letting the pieces click into place. "Mrs. Diggle, pleasure to see you again."

Lyla rolled her eyes at the young billionaire before turning her attention back to Oliver and Felicity who were seated in front of the bar. If Tommy didn't know any better he would assume they were being questioned by the police instead of their good friend's wife and her two terrifying secret government agent-lackeys.

"Can you tell me anymore about why the Triad would have attacked you here?" Lyla directed to Felicity, who shifted in her seat.

Judging from the way Oliver's back was ramrod straight and Diggle held his arms tight across his chest, Tommy assumed they were less than pleased with the line of questioning. It didn't help that there were two agents overseeing the whole thing.

Even though Oliver and John were Team Felicity, and Tommy was more or less in the process of joining said team, the fact remained that Felicity Smoak was still a high profile computer hacker and jewel thief. She was someone that a person like Lyla would want to put away.

"Lyla, can't this wait?" Diggle interrupted.

Tommy felt the withering look Lyla sent her husband before turning to the agents. "I need you both to start collecting any evidence of the Triad's presence. Gunshot residue, fingerprints, shoe imprints, the works."

Both men exchanged a hesitant glance which seemed to only make the smaller agent stand taller in her spot.

"Do you boys need a gold plated invitation?" The sarcasm was rich in her tone. "Now."

Tommy let out a breath as both men turned and began to work throughout the club. He didn't know why, but he felt as though he should do something too. Like maybe Lyla was about to yell at him for not hopping to it.

"Ok, now that they are distracted, I need you to tell me what happened." Lyla directed to Felicity once more, although this time her voice held a softer note of compassion.

"Why does A.R.G.U.S. want to be involved in a random mob hit anyway?" Oliver asked, scooting a hairq closer to Felicity in the process.

Tommy looked down and realized he was still holding the ice he had gone to retrieve for the bump on Felicity's head. He had also taken Oliver's leather jacket with him, which only made Oliver look slightly ridiculous sitting in Verdant with green leather pants and a black t-shirt.

"Oliver don't treat me like the enemy on this one." Lyla cocked her head to the side. "We're all just trying to do what's best for Felicity."

Tommy watched as Felicity worked her jaw and Oliver slid a hand over hers in a show of support. Laurel would do that when they used to have dinner with his father, _before_ he leveled the Glades. It was her way of offering him comfort in an otherwise _un_comfortable situation.

"Can someone fill me in on what's going on?" Tommy asks.

"Lyla believes Felicity, here, is the same Felicity Smoak we've been tracking and went to Russia in search of." Diggle filled in. "The same Felicity who is an expert, and _criminal_, hacker and jewel thief."

Tommy raised his eyes trying to catch onto what Diggle was saying.

"She wants to take her to an A.R.G.U.S. holding facility." Oliver challenged, sitting straighter in his seat. "Even though Felicity is not the same Felicity she thinks she is."

"Then tell me her last name and I'll run it to verify her identity." Lyla told him with the barest hint of frustration and slightest bit of amusement.

Tommy wondered how many times they had circled this question, and also why Felicity was not filling in any blanks.

Wasn't she a con-woman? Couldn't she develop a whole new alias on the spot?

But as he watched her eyes seem to flit from Oliver to Diggle, wide and scared, Tommy felt bad for her. She looked so lost, and he assumed that after all she had been through lately, she was.

So, in true Tommy Merlyn fashion – without thought, and a little bit of flair – Tommy gave her a new identity.

"Guys we can't keep hiding the truth forever." He told them with the hint of theatrics in his tone.

Four sets of eyes turned on him, each with a different emotion. They all ranged from confusion to shock to hardened rage at the potential of Tommy's words.

"My father wasn't a good man, which I think we can all agree on." Tommy watched as confusion overtook all of them one by one. "He wasn't a loving man, although he _thought_ he was. When my mother died the man he was became hard and cruel. He was so devastated by her loss he forgot he had a family right there the whole time, a family who needed him. He started disappearing for months on end. No one ever knew where he went –"

"As fascinating as this is, Mr. Merlyn, I fail to see the point."

"Well if you'd let me finish, _Mrs_. Diggle, I would get to it." Lyla tipped her head in challenge. It probably wasn't the best time to bait the woman who could kill him with her pinky. "Sorry, _Agent_ Michaels… Anyway when my father was disappearing he was apparently going off to Vegas where he would gamble and chum it up with less than desirable people." Felicity's eyes lit up with realization. "While my mother was alive he would take an annual trip there, but once she was murdered he spent more time on the strip."

Then Oliver and Diggle too seemed to understand his thought process. They both held varying levels of disbelief but it was Felicity who looked like she might punch him. Her eyes were practically screaming at him to stop what he was doing and just take it all back.

"The reason I know all this now is because Felicity came to me, _while_ Oliver and Diggle were in Russia, and told me the truth about my father." But Tommy Merlyn was never one to stop a train once it already left the station.

"Oh God." Felicity groaned as she dropped her head into her hands.

"Felicity is my sister, and a Merlyn, and I am offended you think she would be this other Felicity." Tommy rose his voice enough to be believably offended, causing the other agents to turn in their direction.

"Tommy," Oliver said in warning, but Tommy refused to look his friend in the eyes.

If Oliver was allowed to be all impulsive and bring Felicity back with them instead of handing her over to the proper authorities in the first place, then Tommy could be impulsive and adopt her.

Lyla didn't believe him, that much was obvious, but she also didn't appear as though she wanted to challenge him just yet. "If this is true, Mr. Merlyn, I am going to need proof."

"Of course, Agent Michaels." Tommy responded in kind. "It was a shock at first but there's nothing I wouldn't do for family."

Diggle rolled his eyes and shook his head at Tommy's antics.

"I'm sure." Lyla's tone held the barest hint of sarcasm before she turned her attention to address the whole group. "But if I find that you are lying, and Miss Merlyn is actually Miss Smoak, I will be coming back and no tall tale will be able to keep you out of jail."

"Lyla-" Diggle stepped forward, but was quickly stopped as Lyla finally directed her attention to her husband.

"Johnnie, a word?"

Diggle only nodded before allowing himself to be led out of the club with his wife in front of him. Tommy let out a breath, but still knew the other agents were nearby. They dodged a bullet on that one for sure. Felicity being arrested wasn't the best option for them right now, even though he was only just now starting to understand why.

"What the hell?" Felicity turned on him in a whispered yell. "I'm a Merlyn now?"

"Better than in jail with A.R.G.U.S." Tommy replied in hushed tones before turning to Oliver. "Buddy, back me up."

"What were you thinking? Lyla is going to check that story, and then come back for Felicity when she finds out it was false." Oliver's voice was low and Tommy didn't miss the hostility that lay there.

"I bought us time, unlike what you guys were doing, which was the worst demonstration of stalling I've ever seen."

"Tommy, I appreciate the help, but Oliver is right." Felicity sounded a little calmer as she responded, her eyes drifting to Oliver before she turned back to him. "Lyla is going to check your story, and the only way to lead her in the right wrong direction long enough to actually buy us time is to falsify actual documents."

"So do it." Tommy shrugged as if it were the easiest solution to their problem.

Both Oliver and Felicity shook their heads at the missing piece Tommy didn't have.

"Tommy, doing that will probably set off some type of alert the media has on your last name. They do it to anyone who is famous and is liable to get them a story. This would be prime story material. An illegitimate Merlyn coming out of the wood work." Felicity explained as she folded her arms over her chest. The red scratch marks from China White were becoming more noticeable, too. "It would drag your name and your family's name around through the mud."

"You mean like how a manufactured earthquake to destroy part of the city would?" Tommy drawled. "A little sister isn't exactly the atomic bomb, if you get my drift."

Felicity paused before turning to Oliver. "Tommy, people are after Felicity. If they think they can get to her through you …"

Tommy had to give them credit with how hard they were trying to dissuade them.

"You mean like how the Chinese Triad stormed the club and shot it up?" They could at least make it difficult for him to refute their excuses. "You guys keep coming up with reasons on why I should not be the hero in this scenario and it's getting a little insulting."

Felicity's eyes were calmer now, and a bit sad, which made Tommy wonder just how often people had actually helped her out of a jam. "We just want you to think about it."

"You saved my life back there without thinking about it." He explained as if it were obvious. "It's my turn now."

"You didn't even like me an hour ago." She whispered.

Tommy ignored the stare Oliver was giving him and focused on his new 'sister.' "I'm told brothers and sisters are like that sometimes."

* * *

"Johnnie I don't like what you all are doing in there." Lyla spun to face him as the club door slammed behind them. "You don't even know this girl and you're all laying your lives down for her."

Diggle didn't know how to explain it to Lyla without getting her to spend time with Felicity. He felt just like her only a few days prior. Getting to know Felicity, talking to her, had been the only way to change his mind on her.

"She's a good kid, Lyla." He defended. "She didn't ask for any of this."

"That's what has me worried." Lyla let her hands rest on her hips. "It seems like there is an awful lot of trouble following a person who seems to have done nothing to warrant it."

"You just don't know her."

"But I know you. I love you, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Even if it is for admirable reasons." Lyla stepped to him and placed both hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly to enunciate her point.

"That's who we are, Lyla." He leaned into her, resting his forehead against hers. "We put ourselves in the line of fire when we could easily turn around and go the other way."

When he lifted his gaze he saw the concern in her eyes. The fear that this time the line of fire would be too hot.

"It's one of the reasons you find me so attractive." He jabbed in hopes, and succeeding, at making her smile. "There's the smile I love."

Lyla let the smile linger just a few seconds longer before she lifted her eyes in search of his once more. "Just be careful, ok?"

"Always." He promised.

Lyla let out a breath before stepping away from him, hands going back to her hips to let him know it was time to get back to business.

"And I'm going to have to run her story when I get back." Diggle knew as much. He also knew Felicity was probably halfway through planning an escape route as they spoke. "Waller is not going to be happy about this."

That caught his attention. He knew Amanda Waller and knew her to be a hard woman to take. There was no problem she didn't think a bomb couldn't handle, he had once told Oliver. Why this woman would want Felicity in custody bad enough to send Lyla and A.R.G.U.S. agents to intercept her after an attack was a bit of a question mark.

"Because she couldn't take down a jewel thief?"

Lyla shook her head and glanced towards the door to the club where her agents worked.

"The Oracle is the best hacker out there. Some of the biggest jobs have been pulled by her." Lyla explained to the blank, confused stare of her husband. "You guys really have no idea how smart she is, do you?" Diggle resisted the urge to shrug his shoulders. They knew her record but some of it must have been left out when Diggle got the file. "Waller didn't want a jewel thief. She wanted a hacker for her team."

"Her team?" Diggle cocked his head to the side.

Lyla paused before she could elaborate, glancing over Diggle's shoulder as she did. "Skulking in alleyways doesn't suit you, Oliver."

"I wasn't skulking." Oliver announced from the shadows of the club. "Tommy and Felicity were catching up so I thought I'd come and check on Dig."

Diggle hadn't even heard Oliver leave the club. That boy was more stealth than most Special Forces teams he knew.

"My guys are probably getting antsy." Lyla backtracked. "Be careful."

John nodded to his wife, before leaning in to give her a too short kiss. He didn't have to look to know that Oliver had probably turned his head.

Lyla gave him one last smile before walking past him towards the club.

"Don't get him killed, all right." He heard her pause at Oliver's shoulder.

Oliver gave a nod to his wife. "Always a pleasure, Lyla."

Diggle watched her go back into the club, and contemplated following after her, but he did need to talk to Oliver first. He needed to know what happened when he followed Lyla outside.

"Everything ok inside with the _Merlyn's_?" Diggle couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. The idea of Tommy and Felicity being related was a comical one. He probably would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Yeah, Felicity's on her tablet and Tommy is pretending to try and learn something from her." Oliver nodded towards the club.

Diggle took a breath before folding his arms across his chest. "That was stupid. What he did."

"Of the stupid things that Tommy Merlyn has done, this definitely lands moderately high on the scale." Oliver agreed.

"Moderately high?" Sometimes he didn't understand these boys and their need to act irrationally. "Oliver he is putting his family name on her birth certificate, he's letting there be a clear and straightforward tie between whatever danger Felicity is about to face and him. Not to mention the fact that once the press get wind of Malcolm Merlyn's illegitimate child they are also going to be hunting for her. This was pretty damn stupid."

Oliver paused in thought as he took in all Diggle said. All of which he knew Oliver already knew.

"Did I mention he rented out a football stadium for a game of strip kickball in college?"

"This isn't a joke, Oliver." Diggle chastised. "He was pissed at you earlier for making him lie about Sara being in town."

"He didn't want to get Laurel involved in this. He's trying to protect her." Oliver defended.

He knew Oliver didn't agree with this. He was in the room when Tommy decided to act on whatever misguided sense he had. He saw Oliver's eyes darken as the threat against Felicity became even bigger and obtained even more targets. He knew Oliver wasn't happy at the mess Tommy was getting them into.

"He just created a fake sister with a target on her back." Diggle told him anyway. "What is he going to do when Laurel hears about this and wants to meet her?"

"Hopefully it won't come to that." Oliver shook his head. "Felicity is good at computers. You heard Lyla. A.R.G.U.S. wants her because she's the best. She could create these documents under the radar, or at least keep the press from finding them long enough to let us solve this. She could delete them before it even becomes an issue."

He had to admit that they did not know much about Felicity's talents. For all they knew, she could do it. She could neutralize the threat of being caught by the press, the Triad, or the Lance's. All they needed was to distract A.R.G.U.S. long enough to get Felicity to safety.

Whatever that meant at this point.

But Diggle knew that things like this were never that easy. Not for them at least.

"Do you really believe that? With our luck?"

One look in Oliver's eyes, and he knew that his friend didn't believe the lie he was trying to tell himself.

* * *

"We failed. Again." The resounding bang of a large metal door slamming shut caused Floyd Lawton to only lift his head.

It wasn't the first time Chien Na Wei threw a fit in his presence. The normally even tempered assassin seemed more frazzled as of late though. Maybe their new employer was the one causing her to lose her cool each time she came back empty handed.

"Correction. You failed." He baited. "I'm succeeding at being a 'hostage.'"

He held out his hands in great flourish from the chair he sat in. His sniper rifle laid out on the table in front of him as he cleaned and inspected each part.

Chien did not seem to appreciate his sarcasm as she pointed a single, well-manicured finger in his direction.

"You failed five years ago when you didn't complete your job as you were hired."

Floyd lifted his head to meet her glare. "I didn't take the money for that one, so it doesn't count."

He explained as if that excused his mistake all those years ago. "Besides, I don't work for _him_."

"None of us want to believe that, but we all do." She told him, a calm level of icy fear threading its way through her words. "First it was the blonde, and now the fucking Arrow. She seems to amass quite a few followers."

Floyd snorted from his seat. His girl was something else, he knew that for sure. Sara's bond to her had been expected. They were both runaways in a sense, and had a genuine understanding for the pain they both were going through.

Oliver Queen was a different story all together. He never believed that she would have wound the Arrow so tight in her grasp that she could escape police custody.

He understood why the masked vigilante was falling for his young protégé. He just hadn't seen it coming, and he always saw a bullet's path to its target – even when his eye did not.

"You're just mad because Oliver Queen bested you continuously throughout the years, and now so is she."

Floyd taunted his adversary. He hated working with her, but at this point it was a necessary evil. He was the one who made the mistake all those years ago, he took his eye off the prize, and now Chien was sent to clean it up.

"Stop being so gleeful about this." She warned in a darkening tone. "If we fail again there is no place any of us can go where _he_ will not find us."

She was right, too. Floyd had pissed off the wrong person and now he was paying for it. He just hoped he could keep Felicity and Sara from getting caught in the crossfire he, himself, couldn't avoid. As long as the Arrow had her under his protection, and the League seemed to be overseeing Sara's safety, then he could breathe a little easier. Both of the girls had guardians while he played this part.

"Let me out there and I won't fail. I never miss." He told the Triad enforcer in front of him.

Out of all the mistakes he made leading up to meeting Felicity, her and Sara were the only things he had done right. He couldn't fail them now, not when he was the reason they were all in this mess. He was the one who took the job when he should have said no. He was the one who ultimately failed Felicity that day in the bar, after her mother died.

He should have just killed her and saved her years of pain. It seemed either path he would have led her on that night would have just ended in pain, and most likely death. If he had just ended it that night when he saw the anguish in her eyes, he could have saved her from all of this.

"But didn't you already?" Chien goaded. "You're the one who started all of this when you brought the stray home instead of returning her where she belonged."

And now, he knew, they would all pay for that mistake.


	16. Chapter 15

**AN: I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry for taking so long. I appreciate all of you who are sticking with the story and have left such kind comments and follows and favs while I was away. The writer's block got the best of me and I never anticipated it taking this long. I have no intention to abandon this story, but this chapter is a bit on the rougher side. I'm still getting back in the swing of writing so I hope it doesn't turn too many people away.**

**Again, thank you all for your support. I can't express just how much I love reading your comments and seeing that others are enjoying this story. Thank you!**

* * *

Her eyes were heavy, and dry while a strong band of pressure wound its way around her eye sockets, probably from lack of sleep and continuous staring at a computer screen. It hadn't dawned on her until her head and eyes both started to ache that she probably hadn't slept since Russia.

While their adventure in Russia had happened less than 24 hours ago, she felt as she hadn't had a chance to catch her breath in months.

The constant running, dodging bullets, swinging through windows, getting threated by mysterious organized crime syndicates – not to mention the invitation to join the League of Assassins – Felicity sure had been busy since she fell in with Oliver Queen.

Felicity glanced over at the man in question, who was currently doing some type of exercise she was sure was invented to torture her, specifically, all while shirtless. He kept swinging back and forth on a bar, tensing his perfectly chiseled abdominals, before floating miraculously up to another rung in what could be considered a fancy pull up.

Nope, she could definitely not blame Oliver for her current situation of being on the run from the Triad, the League, some other unknown third group, A.R.G.U.S., and the law in general. No, she got herself into that all on her own.

The only situation she could blame Oliver for at the present moment was distracting her.

Did he have to be so sweaty? Just watching him go back and forth, up and down, was her best dream and worst nightmare all rolled into one. She just wanted to climb him like a tree, right there in the dingy, dank basement of a nightclub, which was very unlike her.

"How's that search coming?" Tommy's voice in her ear made her jump in her chair, hitting her knee off the desk.

While her face blossomed a brilliant shade of red she could hear Diggle and Roy chuckle behind them. She wouldn't dare glance at Oliver lest she die of embarrassment. Sara always did say she needed to work on being more aware of her surroundings.

Instead she turned her attention back to the computer screen in front of her.

"It's going great with the exception that I don't know what I'm looking for." The feel of Tommy's hand on her shoulder surprised her.

"You'll get it." He encouraged with a gentle squeeze.

She noted Oliver jump to his feet, the ladder of wonderfulness forgotten as he grabbed a towel to wipe at the sweat that had formed- Focus Felicity!

"It would be easier if I could figure out the pattern, or what they wanted in Russia with that egg." Felicity babbled. "Not that I believe for a second that a million year old Faberge egg could possibly be some sort of weapon. A big eff-you to the Russians? Sure. A weapon? No." She glanced up at the ceiling, while the scenarios played out in her head. "Ok, maybe if you threw it at someone, and had like really good aim."

"I can contact Anatoly and see if he knows of any weapons." Oliver cut her off with a slight grin. "I agree that the egg was probably just an excuse."

Felicity felt a note of pride puff up within her at Oliver's agreement.

"'A million year olds?'" Tommy muttered beside her with a knowing gleam in his voice.

And just like that, she tucked it away. Shaking the moment out of her mind she took her glasses off to rub the heels of her hands over her eyes. She just needed a few hours of sleep, then she knew she could solve this puzzle. What did the Triad want? And why were they targeting her and Sara to get it?

"Hey boss." Roy's voice caught all of their attentions. "I know we've had more pressing things to worry about and all, but the city's getting a little rough out there."

Felicity noticed the way Roy directed all of his attention to Oliver and the way the boy looked up to him. Felicity wondered what the story was there. How had Oliver's, sister's boyfriend (she knew that much from her research) gone from street thief to the Arrow's side kick?

Roy was more of an off the grid kind of guy with only an old school cellular phone to his name. It was hard to find information on someone who lived like she did.

Oliver seemed to understand what the younger man was implying and only nodded in response.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Tommy interjected. "The sun's about to rise and you're running on very few hours of sleep."

Oliver gave a sigh, probably of exhaustion, to his friend. "I'm just going to pop out there quick enough to stop a couple street crimes and pop back in."

"The Arrow hasn't been seen in a couple days, man." Diggle spoke up. "The kid's been doing a good job of keeping the smaller crimes low, but a kid in a hoodie throwing punches is still just a kid in a hoodie."

"I agree." Roy nodded in agreement before turning back to Diggle. "I do resent the 'kid' comment though."

Diggle just folded his arms and shook his head before turning back to Oliver.

"I appreciate your concern, but the Arrow can't just disappear from Starling City." Oliver told Tommy in a calming tone. "The Arrow means something now. You helped teach me that."

Tommy regarded Oliver, looking his friend up and down. Felicity surmised he was doing his own physical inspection, trying to see just how tired his friend was. As if his untrained eyes could diagnose Oliver as fit, or un-fit, for duty.

"I hate when you use my logic against me." Tommy relented.

"I hate when he talks in the third person." Diggle muttered behind her.

"Then stop being so smart." Oliver winked at Tommy before moving to the bench where an old wooden box lay, Diggle's comment unmentioned.

Tommy smiled and glanced back at her. "You know I keep trying but it just keeps happening."

Felicity snorted a laugh before swiveling back in her chair. They were like a real team, with Oliver clearly holding the leader position, Diggle as his second, Roy the protégé, and Tommy as Tommy. He seemed to hold multiple roles, that 'brother' of hers.

"You seem tired." Tommy's voice was at her side again, this time closer as he leaned over her shoulder to stare at the screen.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm ok." She gave him a small smile, still unsure of her relationship with the man who put it all on the line for her when he claimed her as his own.

She knew he did it for Oliver, not her, but she still felt unsure about him.

"You do look tired." Oliver noted as he placed small baby arrows in a holster on his arm. How had he gotten dressed so fast?

Shaking her head at missing Oliver's rapid wardrobe change she turned back to Tommy. "I'm fine. Both of you."

"They're right, Felicity." Diggle spoke up from the med bay. "You look half past dead over there."

"Since when is it gang up on Felicity day?" She couldn't help the slight bite in her tone.

"Since you became an unofficial member of the team, blondie." Now it was Roy's turn apparently. Did they rehearse this or something?

"Well two members of the team are gearing up to go fight crime, both of them should also be undergoing some serious case of jetlag any minute now." Felicity gestured to where Oliver and Diggle were respectively loading their quiver and gun.

"Why don't I take you back to my loft and you can get some sleep." Tommy encouraged her, brushing past her comment. "The bed linens are an obscene thread count which Laurel picked out and she even arranged the guest room so you know it's at least got the essentials."

"I really should stay here while the searches run." Felicity gestured to the computer while fighting the urge to go back to the loft and sleep.

"Tommy's right, the guest room is pretty nice." Oliver spoke up, greasepaint in place around his eyes. "And you can't do anything while the searches run. You said it yourself when we first got down here."

"I don't know." She hesitated. "Won't the hiding me from anyone plan be compromised if Laurel sees me."

"We spend all our nights at her place." Tommy rebutted. "We really only stay over at the loft like once a month when she wants me to feel like I have a say in the relationship."

"If it's not too much of an imposition." She hesitated. "I am feeling a little worn down."

"Well then let's show you how Merlyn's live, little sis." Tommy smiled. "We'll start with a tour of the wet bar. To be a Merlyn, you must know your way around any alcoholic beverage. It does wonders on family engagements, although since dear old dad is no longer with us those aren't that bad."

"Actually." Oliver interrupted Tommy's excitement so that both turned their attention to him. "Why don't you have Diggle take you?"

Diggle looked up from where he was zipping up his leather jacket.

"It's just that if the Triad attacks Diggle would be better able to protect Felicity." Oliver explained, glancing between the four members of the group.

"Well we all knew that tray thing was a fluke, so you're probably right on that point." Tommy shrugged before handing the keys over to Diggle. "Since your company designed my security software I'm sure I don't need to tell you the code."

"I could just hack it if he didn't." Felicity laughed at the looks on their faces. "Ok, can we go now?"

* * *

Felicity taught Sara a trick she would never forget.

It was during the second week of Felicity living with her and Floyd in Paris and neither woman knew what to make of the other. Felicity sat in front of the expensive computers Floyd bought for her all day while Sara spent her time training and studying.

Then as Sara had been walking past Felicity's station she saw the younger blonde pull up a satellite image of what appeared to be an unkempt neighborhood in Las Vegas, Nevada.

"How did you do that?" Sara interrupted, causing Felicity to whirl around in her chair with a slight yelp.

"Where'd you come from?" Felicity asked with a tremor in her voice. "I thought you were owning that wooden dummy thing in the other room."

"I finished early." Sara ignored the way Felicity tensed as she leaned over the desk. "How did you get access to a satellite?"

Felicity shrugged as she turned her attention to the screen. "Hacking satellites are easy."

"Easy?" Sara mouthed behind her. She was afraid to know what the girl in front of her thought was hard.

"It was one of the first things I learned how to do in my typing class." At Sara's widening eyes Felicity continued. "I was already typing circles around the rest of the middle schoolers and had already hacked my way into most of the casinos on the strip, so I thought 'why not?'"

Sara had to admit that her admiration for Felicity only went up at that moment. 'Why not?' was Sara's life motto. Why not shoplift that make up? Why not break into the high school after dark and steal the football team's prized trophy from states? Why not sleep with your sister's boyfriend? Why not run away from home so you could take on being a professional thief and con-woman?

"What's this neighborhood?" Sara asked as she leaned over to see the screen again. If Felicity was planning to go after something, she was definitely in.

But instead of puffing with pride at her chosen mark, Felicity closed the screen out and turned away from Sara.

"Hey, I'm not trying to infringe on your score, I'm just interested in helping." Sara tried to show the measure of good faith.

"No, it's not that." Felicity sniffed as she stepped away from the computer. "I'm not looking for a score."

Sara glanced back at the computer screen. So what had Felicity been doing cooped up in that room for two weeks if she hadn't been looking for someone to rob?

"Felicity…"

"I miss my mom." Plain and simple, there it was. Although Sara knew there was nothing plain and simple about it. "When I feel like this, I just pull up the image of … I have to see her so I just stare at her grave, which is creepy and morbid, but it's all I have."

"Kind of like putting flowers on her grave." Sara knew the feeling, to an extent.

She missed her mother too. She also missed her father and sister. She hadn't been back to Starling since she left but she tried to keep track through different news articles. Yet, she could go home and see them anytime she wanted and she didn't. Felicity on the other hand only had a black and white, grainy image of a plot of land.

It kind of put things into perspective.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" Sara asked. Felicity lifted her head, the shock written clear across her tear addled face.

"You want to learn how to pull up satellite images?" Felicity asked causing Sara to chuckle at her tone.

"You never know when it might come in handy."

And it did. Over the years Sara used the hard earned skill to hack her way into satellite imagery and city cameras to watch her sister go to law school and her father to the precinct. Some nights she watched him on patrol and when he became a detective she watched him save the Glades, helping the Arrow, and cementing his role as badass hero dad.

Now though, she was using that trick to watch over another family member.

"Come on, Felicity." Sara hummed as she used the keystrokes Felicity taught her. "Where are you?"

It had been two hours and all she found were empty streets surrounding the safe house. No one even resembling John or Felicity. It was starting to feel hopeless.

"Why don't you try the back door encryption she uses from a remote location?" Sara paused, her fingers over the keyboard, at the sound of Nyssa's voice in the doorway. "Unless you've already tried that, in which case I am at a loss of how to assist you."

Sara sat back in the uncomfortable desk chair as Nyssa crouched low beside her.

"You should be resting, Sara." Nyssa scolded Sara as she ran a hand through the length of Sara's blonde hair. "It will take longer than twelve hours for your injury to heal."

"I need to find her." Sara objected. "I just need to see for myself that she's ok."

Nyssa paused in her response, seemingly weighing her options and the amount of information she should hand out. "She is safe."

"Because your league buddy told you so?" Sara snapped in frustration before immediately regretting it. She just wanted to know that Felicity was ok. "I'm sorry, I must be tired."

"I would not lie to you, Sara." Sara could see the patience and understanding wearing on Nyssa's face, which only made her feel worse. "I will get a message to her. Write it down and I will send it to her."

How could Nyssa be so kind, even after everything they were putting her through? Felicity had basically rejected the League, she was all but a non-issue to them. Why would Nyssa keep trying?

"Nyssa?" Sara hesitated. "You'll give her a choice right? I mean I know I would feel better if she came with us, and I can't hide my feelings at the thought of leaving her behind with Oliver Queen, but … are you going to force her to join the league?"

Nyssa took a step back, her mask of indifference shifting only briefly before her mask was back in place. Sara tried to quell the guilt at her question but knew she needed to know the answer.

"Sara, have I ever forced your hand? Have I ever threatened your life?" Nyssa spoke logically.

"No."

"The only gain I could possibly surmise from forcing Felicity to accept the offer of League protection would be if I were to force you as well." She had a point. Forcing Felicity to do anything wouldn't gain any favors from Sara, even if they were still on the outs with each other. "I have nothing to gain from offending or hurting you both. The choice to join the league has always been yours to make."

Sara let her words sink in. Nyssa had never forced her to accept the offer. Nyssa had always used words of love and encouragement, or being together. Even now, looking over Nyssa's smile which was nothing but warmth and encouragement, Sara found herself with the smallest sliver of doubt.

"But once the offer has been extended you can't really say no."

She watched as Nyssa processed the words before putting a gentle hand atop Sara's. "I do not yet hold the power to extend an official offer. That right still lies with my father."

"So if I were to change my mind…" Sara let the words fall between them. Some things were better left unspoken.

"You would be free to leave." Nyssa told her after a pause. The words were a mere whisper on her lips. "Just as Felicity is."

* * *

While Tommy was right, his guest bedroom was amazing, Felicity chose to sleep on the couch. Much to her back's regret, it had been difficult to get comfortable, but she finally settled with laying on her side facing the back of the couch.

Diggle had tried to make her something to eat when they entered the former bachelor pad but not even his culinary talents could make much out of beer, vodka, and Cheddar cheese. Although she was able to munch on the cheese slices, she didn't have the heart to tell him that she was just not that hungry.

The last few hours had been catching up with her in more than just a sleep deprived feeling, but a bone numbing exhaustion. It was hard for her, genius she was, to comprehend the way things had turned out since Russia. She never would have imagined the last few hours to be possible. Her 'family' was falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Hey man." She heard John's voice on the opposite side of the room, jarring her out of her semi-conscious slumber. Felicity could tell from the tone of his voice that John was speaking to Oliver and not Tommy or Roy. "How was patrol?"

John had been a good bodyguard, aside from the food issue. He had talked to her, checked her injured leg which she had almost forgotten about, and even tried to encourage her to get some sleep in an actual bed.

She denied him, repeatedly. He only just shook his head and humored her until finally her eyes had drifted shut.

"Long." The sound of Oliver's voice, husky from what she assumed was his own exhaustion, made her want to burrow deeper into the couch. "Why's Felicity on the couch?"

She heard his footsteps, light as they were, walk in the direction of Diggle's voice. She wondered how long she had been asleep, but didn't feel the need to alert them to her awakened state. Her head was still fuzzy from her weird dreams of her and Sara in high school with China White as the Regina George character telling them that "on Wednesday's we wear green."

"She didn't want to fall asleep while you were out there. She tried as hard as she could to stay awake but she conked out thirty minutes ago." Diggle told him as she heard the sound of a chair being pulled across the wood flooring of the kitchen. "Seems someone has a fan."

Oliver chuckled and she felt her face flush, the final remnants of sleep receding. "I'm not sure you could call it that."

"Uh oh, I know what that means." Felicity resisted the urge to turn so she could face them. "Come on, man, you chased this woman halfway across the globe and back. Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." The silence was heavy between them and she wondered if he felt as though he had made a mistake helping her. "Oliver."

She felt the muscles in her back tighten while she gripped the blanket she had wrapped around herself tighter. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"Oliver, you redefined the word when I met you." John's deadpanned voice was clear. "Give it a try"

The pause was almost too much. Did he really regret helping her? Did he regret meeting her too? Looking back on their relationship she could see how he might have come to feel that way. She did trick him for most of the beginning of it. He hadn't even known her real name for weeks afterwards.

If he hadn't been the Arrow, Oliver still wouldn't know that she was not really someone else.

"I don't want to lose her." He said instead, his voice tight with emotion. "Which is insane because we only just met."

"That doesn't sound insane." Felicity loosened her hold on the blanket, her eyes going wide at Oliver's words and Diggle's support. "What is important is what you're going to do about it."

"I don't know if there's anything I can do." Oliver's voice seemed to grow distant as she heard his footsteps move along the wooden floor, and away from her. "I just feel as though everyone is conspiring against us and there's no way to fix this. The Triad, the League, A.R.G.U.S-"

"Is handled."

"Is it though?" Oliver challenged John's easy words. Wait, who was handled? A.R.G.U.S? "We may have delayed the inevitable but each time we seem to do that something else looms around the corner."

He sounded so defeated, and tired. John didn't even try to argue with him, which only burned her up more. How could they give in so easily? Weren't they the heroes of Starling City?

They went up against people like the Triad regularly. Sure the League was a bit much, but Felicity knew in her gut that their threat wasn't going to be one to worry about. No matter her relationship with Sara at the moment, she knew Sara wouldn't let anything happen to her.

So how could they admit defeat like this?

She couldn't hold back any longer. Felicity had remained sleeping as long as what they were saying was innocuous, but now… Now they needed to realize that they could solve all of the problems they were facing.

"You really know how to talk your way out of a victory." Her voice was raspy from sleep as she turned over on the couch to a seated position.

Both men turned to look at her, John's mouth turned up in a grin while Oliver looked as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.  
"Morning sunshine."

"Hey." She smiled to John, moving her blanket so she could stand and walk to meet them in the kitchen.

John looked between the two, Oliver's eyes firmly planted on the granite countertop and Felicity's knowing smirk. "Well, I guess I'll see you two later."

She didn't miss John's wink as he brushed past Oliver and picked up his leather jacket from one of the bar stools. She understood why Oliver relied so heavily on John. The man was a gift to the team and seemed to really take the time to understand Oliver.

"You don't want to lose me?" She finally broke after the door to the apartment shut behind John's retreating form.

"You were awake?" To his credit he didn't even look surprised, just tired.

"I mean, I could lie to you and say I wasn't, but I think with numerous people gunning for me I'd better skip playing coy." She moved to sit on one of the empty barstools as Oliver remained looking at anything but her. "Oliver. You were just about to tell Dig, why not tell me too?"

"Because you're…you." He finished, finally meeting her eyes. "Felicity, you're not like anyone I've ever met before."

She heard the tremor in his voice and saw the way his eyes reflected her gaze. "In a good way?"

"When you walked into that benefit it was as if the whole world changed for me." He spoke in earnest, but moved his gaze back the counter top. "For two-almost three- years I've been living with this weight wrapped around me. I've done things that I'd rather not mention and I've become a person who I would do anything to just…not be."

She reached across to wrap her hand around his larger, calloused hand. "I've done bad things too."

Felicity wanted to reassure him. She wanted to help him realize that he wasn't the only person in the formerly misguided people's club. She was, after all, mentored by a hired gun.

"Felicity, I've killed people." He broke away, moving his hands so they both rested at his sides. "A lot of people."

"Well this isn't some type of competition." She muttered, unamused at his attempts to push her away. "I'm just saying that we've both been people that we'd rather not have been." She tried to keep her voice calm, only just now hearing what she was saying. "But we can't take those people back."

She didn't regret her actions, but sometimes, most times, she wished there had been a better way to accomplish them.

"We can't change the things we've done, only do things differently now."

Maybe she needed to say those words to herself just as much as he needed to hear them. She couldn't change her past, nor did she want to. But he made her want to be different.

"Is that what you want?" The uncertainty in his voice made her see a different side to him. He wasn't the brooding vigilante known for putting arrows in criminals. He was just Oliver Queen. "To do things differently?"

"Yeah, I do." She answered, but did so for herself.

It felt as though it would be too easy to say that she wanted to change for a man, for him. It would be too easy to blame her potential failure on the fact that her heart hadn't been in it, but on him. It also wouldn't have been true.

For months now she had felt as though her heart wasn't in it. She was second guessing herself and her decision all the way to Russia.

She loved the rush she got from the work she did. She loved bringing people to justice. But how often was she actually doing that when she was stealing jewels and valuables from others?

"You said before that you didn't regret the person you were."

"I don't." She told him quickly, her head whipping up to meet his gaze. "I had to become her to get through…everything. I had to do the things I did to understand my grief."

"But-" Oliver looked unsure, so she stopped him.

"I don't enjoy the fact that I could have possibly hurt people, innocent people, but I don't regret her, the me I became." She saw him tip his head in confusion. He didn't get it. How could he? Her head was a jumbled place of codes and sequencing, not to mention the all too common innuendo.

"You know that doesn't really make a lot of sense."

"It does." She urged him. "My mom died, and I had nothing. I had a "forty" hour a week job which was really more like eighty, and an apartment I barely spent any time in. I hardly had anyone to hold me or tell me that everything would be ok. I only had my anger … and then I had Floyd. I did what I did to grieve and while it may not have been right, as I said I may have hurt someone who was innocent, I don't regret it." Felicity paused as she let her own impassioned words sink in.

"It was my journey to take."

Just like his journey was his own, hers had to lead her through many a grey moral loop to get her to where she was now.

"And does your journey include the League?" Oliver surprised her with the question. His face a mask of emotion.

"What?"

"I know you miss Sara." His gaze was laser straight, his voice calm and not at all questioning. "She's your best friend. With her going with the League you can understand how we might wonder if you feel the same." He trailed off at the thought.

"If I'm going to join the League of Assassins? Well I doubt they have a tech division." She tried to joke, shrugging her shoulders as she did.

Oliver leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You know what I mean."

Felicity knew, without a doubt, no matter what she had done in the past, or who she had been associated with, that the League of Assassins was not a club she planned to become a member of.

"I don't plan on joining the League."

She watched as Oliver took in a breath, a look of relief washing over his expression. For the first time since he came back to the loft she looked into his eyes. They were crystal blue, and so beautiful. Had she noticed his eyes before? Had she really taken the time?

She could get lost in those eyes and not mind one bit.

"But what about Sara?" He couldn't help but ask.

"I love Sara, and I miss her, but I'm not going to lose myself because of her." Felicity told him honestly. "I'm not a killer."

She didn't think Sara was, either, but joining the League to be with Nyssa had to be Sara's choice, and Felicity would have to respect that. Just as Sara would have to respect Felicity's choice to not join up. All Felicity knew to be certain at that moment, with Oliver in Tommy Merlyn's kitchen as the sun settled over the Starling City skyline, was that she couldn't turn back now.

"You look tired." He murmured, taking a step around the kitchen island towards her.

"I feel tired." She whispered, feeling his hands find her shoulders, his thumbs massaging circles into her weary muscles. "You look pretty worn out yourself."

Oliver gave her a sly smile, his hands finding their way down the backs of her arms to her elbows. "We should try to get some sleep."

"I've been ok on the couch if you want to take the bed." She told him, afraid to read into the look in his eyes, or the feeling deep in her belly.

Oliver laughed before letting his hands fall the rest of the way to hers. "Come on, Felicity Smoak."

Felicity smiled back as he led her towards the guest room. Sleep would be good.


	17. Chapter 16

**AN: Well it took me a few months to get my life sort of together and get a chapter complete. For those of you who have hung around in the meantime, thank you. I can't thank you or express my gratitude enough. This story holds a special place in my heart and for those of you who enjoy it, I can't tell you how much that means to me. Your encouragement and feedback is fantastic and helps me so much. Thank you!**

**This first section deals with a minor character death. That being said, I am not Jewish. I have tried to research about the faith, heritage, and customs surrounding death but I fear there may be mistakes and I want to apologize in advance. A persons background is a serious matter and I don't take it lightly. If I made any glaring errors please let me know. Just as when I used google translate for the use of Russian earlier on in the story, I know I may not be 100% accurate and I definitely do not mean to offend anyone.**

**Another warning, we start living up to the Mature rating, just a bit.**

* * *

The casket looked nice, which was weird to think about a casket, she chastised herself. It's essentially just a box that they put you in where your lifeless body will decompose and rot long after the flowers they put on top die and your family members stop wearing the color black in your honor. It was a very expensive box.

"I like that one." Felicity turned away from her tablet to stare at her mother who was far too frail for her liking.

They were past the point of denying Donna's illness. Obviously, they were looking at caskets and burial plots, and deciding what kind of vault to get. When Felicity heard the word vault she thought of the place where millions upon millions of French dollars were kept, or the location of the family jewels. Both of which were not things Felicity or Donna had the pleasure of sharing company with.

Never did Felicity associate a vault with her mother's soon to be dead body. Or did she think this was a conversation they would be having in their comfortable living room where they would paint their nails, or Donna would show off her new work attire – which was all too plunging for Felicity's taste – and argue about nonsensical topics that Felicity now found herself, in this moment, regretting all too much.

But Donna was not showing off a new little red number to earn more tips at work and asking for Felicity's approval, which she knew would only come in the form of an eye roll. That had always been good enough for Donna who knew better than to settle for a compliment from her daughter on her lifestyle choices.

No this wasn't a dress, and Felicity had to pay attention, and had to take her mother seriously. Felicity had to be present today and every other day leading up to the moment. Felicity was afforded the opportunity to spend however long it took to be with her mother, as they prepared for the end. She was able to be there as her mother planned what she wanted the funeral to look like. They were a team and this was what teams did. They were present and they helped each other.

She owed her hardworking, silly, beautiful, hard as nails mother at least that.

Felicity looked back down at the tablet where her mother was pointing. Her finger was smaller, thinner, and frailer looking. How could a finger get smaller?

"Hey," Donna murmured as the hand rubbing small circles on Felicity's shoulder squeezed in what Felicity knew was supposed to be more attention grabbing than it was. "We don't have to do this now."

Felicity looked back up to her mother who was smiling, but held a note of ever present sadness in her eyes. Even now with cancer eating away at every cell in her body, the constant appearance of being on the cusp of falling asleep, the lack of blonde hair Felicity modeled her own after Donna still looked beautiful.

She swallowed hard and did what she knew her mother would have done, and had done many times in her life. She accepted what was painful for the person she loved.

"Hey, I'm just gawking at these prices." Felicity leaned into her mother's shoulder in what was supposed to be a good natured love tap, but felt more like melting into her. "How do they justify charging these fees?"

"It has to be plain, and wooden. Those are low on cost, right?" Donna joked, a light returning to her eyes as she turned the page to the "affordable section" the funeral director showed them last week when they went in for a consultation, all the while keeping in mind traditions and customs they learned in childhood. "Pine is biodegradable which I know you'll like. Good for the environment."

There were so many customs her mother taught her from their Jewish heritage, but all were flying out of her head. So many things she was supposed to remember that weren't sticking out. Maybe she should call her mother's rabbi, or she could google it while her mother was asleep later.

"We are not putting you in a pine box." Felicity huffed dramatically at her mother's words, knowing full well she was joking. "We would go with oak, if anything."

Donna smiled warmly as she let her hand rest over Felicity's. The feel of the bones covered by a thin layer of skin felt all too strange for her to fully absorb. This was happening. Her mother was really dying.

No more Hanukkah, no more Thanksgiving. No more Viva Las Elvis week, which was a tradition she was sure her mother made up as a kid. It would all end with her when she was gone.

"You know," Donna probed, her voice watery as she spoke. "The doctors were probably wrong."

Felicity let her head fall gently to Donna's shoulder, the lack of muscle definition and all too present bones only echoing what they both already knew. The doctors weren't wrong.

"Yeah," Felicity echoed. She could play along if that's what her mother needed. "Maybe they were."

They never did pick out the casket, vault, or burial plot that night, or the night after that. Instead they slept in the living room with the hum of the local news playing low in the background. Mother and daughter curled together on a pink, small recliner.

Two days later Felicity made the arrangements herself. She covered all the mirrors in the house by herself. She even called her mother's rabbi, by herself. As the coroner wheeled her mother's body away it hit her just as squarely as it did the day her mother told her she had cancer. They weren't a team anymore. Felicity was on her own.

* * *

The feel of Egyptian cotton sheets, of the high thread count variety, was still something he was getting used to even after all this time. On the island he relied on the moss and dirt covered ground as means of making himself comfortable. The no padding, firm as they come, cot he occupied in Russia provided little to no support and often left him with an aching back in the morning. Even Tatsu and Maseo's "couch" was full of lumps and errant holes. All were a far cry from the luxuries he had been afforded growing up a Queen.

The troubles he had through those five years was nothing compared to the sheer discomfort he felt when he finally came home. The hard, unfeeling surfaces he once slept on now provided more comfort than the feather top mattress. The thin bed sheet which once provided more than enough coverage now felt suffocating.

Sometimes he wondered if he would ever really leave the island.

"Ugh, please tell me that we did not just sleep the entire day away," Felicity groaned beside him.

At some point in their "nap" she had found her way into his arms, or he found his way to her. It was hard to tell when she was pressed flush against him as she was. The cat like stretch she gave, both arms going above her head as she arched her back, did terrible things to him.

Struggling to control his breathing, among other things, Oliver glanced over his shoulder at the digital alarm clock set neatly on the nightstand. Definitely something Laurel planted in the guest room as Tommy's idea of a guest room had been an old Futon and two throw pillows Oliver thought he saw at a party ten years prior.

The clock's angry red numbers told him they clearly had slept the day away.

"You know what," Felicity muttered in a husky voice, still finding her way back from her sleep fueled state. "Don't tell me."

Oliver grunted more out of discomfort as she wiggled her hips against his, snuggling her way deeper into his arms. He was trying really hard to remain appropriate with her, but if she kept moving like that he didn't know how long he would last. Yet he still did not want her to stop.

Her hair smelt like flowers, which he remembered Dig sending him a text message earlier that Felicity was finally relaxing and taking a shower.

"I don't think I've slept that good in … oh wow, years, maybe." Felicity groaned, the sound going straight to Oliver's lower body, as she shifted once more. "How bout you?"

Oliver hummed, afraid of what his voice would do if he dared open his mouth. His tight rope of control was slipping the further she burrowed her way into his arms. Did she realize what she was doing? Or how she was affecting him?

She had to. The evidence was very evident, and very uncomfortable.

But she still didn't move from his arms.

"Do you think if we stay here long enough the Triad, League of Assassins, A.R.G.U.S., and the third party organization we know nothing about would stop looking for me?" Felicity's voice was childlike in nature, bordering on a joking tone, but he heard the fear beneath the words. "I mean I know you guys have some pretty impressive planning skills, but I think this one is a winner."

Oliver chuckled as he shifted away from her, allowing Felicity to turn in his arms. The whole scenario, her in his arms just awake from sleep complete with pillow talk, was more intimate than he had been in a long while. Normally he strayed from such situations not wanting to make himself more vulnerable, physically and mentally, than he had to be. Yet Felicity Smoak seemed to anchor him in place. The thought of getting out of the bed a fleeting thought.

"I think," he whispered. "As nice as that plan sounds, we can't hide in here forever."

Felicity sighed as she twisted from his arms to her back, the white sheets of the bed wrapping around her legs.

"I guess you're right." Her eyes remained glued to the ceiling while a series of emotions flickered past her face, leaving him wondering just how fast her mind worked. "Too bad time travel hasn't been invented yet." At his questioning expression she continued. "If it had, I could go back in time and tell China White to shove it. Or I could go back in time and tell Floyd Lawton to shove it. Either or would probably work for this situation."

He watched her wink at him before turning on her side, the sheets wrapping around her waist more as she fluffed the pillow before letting her head fall on it again.

"Oh why couldn't I have one of those things like in Harry Potter?" She asked softly meeting his eyes. "What's it called? It was a necklace and Hermione used it to get to class. I remember wanting one very vividly for those very same reasons." Oliver bit back a laugh. "This is going to bother me all day."

"Time-Turner." Oliver told her, meeting her gaze for one second longer than he should before he jumped from the bed, leaving Felicity's staring at him wide mouthed in shock.

"Wait a second." Felicity got up to her knees before trying to inch towards him, only losing her balance once in the mass of tangled sheets. "Are you telling me Oliver Queen, Starling City's masked vigilante, billionaire, play boy, CEO, ship wreck survivor is a Harry Potter nerd?"

Oliver didn't even try to hold back his laugh as he turned to her, both arms crossed over his chest.

"I've watched the movies."

Felicity laughed, jumping slightly closer as she did. "I've watched the movies, and read the books, multiple times, and I didn't know the answer."

"You're being hunted by multiple groups of highly trained assassins and government agents. You're allowed to be a little forgetful." Oliver shrugged before receiving a very light, poorly aimed punch to his shoulder.

"You, Oliver Queen, are making jokes while I'm being hunted by multiple groups of highly trained assassins and government agents." Felicity's smile calmed and became much warmer as she rocked back on knees. "You're making jokes for me."

"We're not going to let anything bad happen to you." He promised with a gravity which had been absent from the room only moments earlier. "I promise you that."

Felicity's eyes twinkled as they stayed locked on his. He meant every word. Oliver couldn't explain it, he wasn't sure if he wanted to, but he knew that keeping Felicity Smoak safe had quickly become his top priority. He couldn't place the exact moment it happened. Maybe it had been when she walked into the room in that red dress, or maybe it started the minute he flung her out the window in Russia.

All he knew was that when this was all over, he was going to have a hard time letting her go.

Because if he had learned one thing over the course of time, contrary to what Diggle said, guys like him didn't get the girl. At least they didn't get to keep the girl.

"You know," Felicity whispered, her voice soft and warm as she gave him a half smile. "I believe that. I trust you."

Oliver watched as Felicity leaned back up to her knees. He was suddenly realizing just how close the two of them were. He must have taken steps towards her without realizing it.

She was close enough that all he had to do was reach out and cup her cheek, which he did. She was also close enough to lean into the palm of his hand, eyes closed, completely trusting, which she did.

They were close enough to let their lips meet in a soft embrace. Which they did.

Light at first, a barely there gesture where their breaths mingled as their lips glanced off each other. His hands grazed her arms slowly as hers wrapped around his shoulders to clasp behind his neck, her fingers lazily tracing a pattern where they met.

Oliver pulled away just as Felicity did, but allowed himself to let his forehead drop to meet hers in an intimate gesture. God he wanted to kiss her, really kiss her. If he were to be honest, he wanted to do a great many things to her that took them both further than just kissing.

Felicity lifted her eyes to meet his, her pupils blown as was probably mirrored in his own gaze. It was too much though. He watched as she dropped her gaze from his. She was being hunted, and he was promising to protect her. Acting on the lust they both felt would only complicate matters. He wasn't the same Ollie anymore. He was not a once and done kind of man anymore. When -If- he ever had Felicity in his bed he wanted so much more than one time.

He wanted so much more with Felicity.

Felicity's hands moved from his neck down the planes of his back, slowing over his shoulders as if she could sense the tension they carried, the willpower he was trying to exert. Without lifting her forehead, or he his, Felicity's hands found their way to the hem of his t-shirt before pausing in their descent.

Her fingers curling around the hem, tracing the stitching, yet glancing over his overheated skin. The feel of her cool fingers pressed against his skin almost made him jump from his spot, and did make him open his mouth in protest. They couldn't take that leap, they couldn't even dance near the edge. One of them would fall and it wasn't the right timing. He wanted everything with Felicity to be right. He wanted to be different for her.

As he opened his mouth to tell her just that, she seemed to disagree with the thoughts running through his head, bringing her lips to crash against his open mouth. Her teeth closed to give his bottom lip a gentle nip, one meant to spur him on, before letting her tongue peak out to trace along the seam of his mouth.

He barely had the chance to think about what she was doing with her mouth, when her hands clutched his t-shirt once more in her fists before raising them along his sides. All at once he felt the blood rush from his head, his mind and thoughts becoming a haze as he answered her kiss, pressing his lips harder against her own.

Oliver raised his arms as her hands forced his shirt up and over his head. The two only separated long enough to move the fabric of his shirt out of their way. Just as the shirt hit the bed beside them their eyes met in implicit understanding. They both wanted this, they both needed this. They were both going to have this.

The millisecond it took for their eyes to meet and for them to have a silent conversation was all it took for Oliver to fall back into her, lips crashing back onto her own. His hands scrabbled along her back and neck, pulling her into his chest, aching to feel her closer to him.

Felicity was not idle though. She gave as good as Oliver got, her finger nails scratching light paths along his back and chest while he moved his lips from her mouth to her jawbone to her neck. The feel of his open mouthed kisses trailing down her neck brought out a low moan from her lips which only did to spur him on.

"Oliver," she whispered breathlessly as his lips moved from her neck to her chest.

His hands moved from her back to her thighs, pulling her up into his chest before he let them both collapse onto the duvet. His arms braced above her, his lips never leaving her chest as he traced the hem of her t-shirt with his tongue.

Felicity brought her hands up to cord through this shirt hair and pressing him closer to where her t-shirt dipped, the feel of his stubble rubbing against her skin and only making her want more. She wondered what that stubble would feel like in other places along her body. The thought of Oliver's tongue laving at the sensitive skin of her belly button as he traced a path beneath her shorts made her hiss in pleasure.

At the sound Oliver raised his eyes to meet hers. Felicity gripped his hair and began to guide him back to her lips. Oliver followed her prompt, placing one last kiss above where her heart was beating out a staccato rhythm in her chest. It should be criminal how bad she wanted this man.

As Oliver's lips met hers again, this kiss slower than their first, she felt him rotate his hips into hers, pressing his arousal against her thigh and making her wish they were minus a few more articles of clothes.

Felicity arched her hips into his, meeting his and causing him to let out a guttural moan of his own. She moved her hands from his back to the hem of her own shirt now, needing to feel his skin against her own. Oliver seemed to understand her motion and began to slide one hand up along her stomach, reaching higher and higher until his large hand (the ones she fantasized about) palmed her left breast.

He hand to know what he was doing to her, how he was torturing her just with his lips and hands. She didn't even want to think of what the man could do with his other assets. The pressure of his fingers, twirling around her nipple and the added thought of where this moment was leading brought another breathless moan from Felicity's mouth. She could feel Oliver's lips tip into a smile against her own lips.

"You know if Felicity was really my sister, I'd have a major issue with you kissing her on a bed like that?" Tommy's voice from the doorway of the guest room shocked them both apart. Oliver pulled his hand away from Felicity and jumped into a defensive stance blocking her from view. "Just saying, not cool man."

* * *

"So, how'd ya sleep?" Tommy asked with a twinkle Oliver did not want to think too hard on as he emerged from the master bedroom after a quick cold shower. "As I stated earlier, I'm not sure how I feel about you shacking up with my baby sister under the guise of 'protection.' Which hopefully you used, by the way."

Oliver grunted before he swallowed the scalding hot liquid in the proffered mug. He barely winced at the burn it left in its wake, his mind still firmly rooted on what Felicity had said that morning. After Tommy's unfortunate entrance, Felicity had sprung away from Oliver fast enough to nearly lose her balance in the mass of tangled sheets. In an unspoken agreement, Oliver went to the master bedroom to use the en suite, while Felicity used the guest room's en suite bathroom.

"You do remember she is not really your sister? Right?"

"You do remember she is a thief and a criminal and currently on the run from a super-secret group of warrior ninjas and assorted mob groups?" Tommy deadpanned while leaning back against the kitchen sink with a dish towel slung over his shoulder.

"I'm only asking because I know you remember that we are supposed to be protecting her. Not screwing her."

"I was not…" But Oliver couldn't continue. He couldn't justify his actions. Not really.

He may not have had sex with Felicity but he couldn't deny that his thoughts and his actions had been heading in that direction. Waking up with her in his arms had been a rush, a momentary lapse in judgement, and a rush of feelings he had tried to close himself off from. The moment Felicity Smoak blew into his life in that red dress, stealing his money, and charming her way around his security he should have known he couldn't have continued on the way he had.

No matter how far away he got from the island, Hong Kong, or Russia he still had those moments where he was right back there, surrounded by the stench of blood and bodies of those he knew.

While Diggle, Tommy, and Roy had been helping, they couldn't change the fact that for five years of his life he had been a monster. He could still see the way their eyes narrowed when he went over a course of action, or the way Roy would flinch while sparring. They couldn't forget his misdeeds because they didn't know what it was like to live in the darkness.

Felicity didn't either, but she was closer. She did things she regretted for less than honorable reasons that impacted others on a grander scale. She hurt people for her own gain, for wealth, and for her own misguided sense of judgment.

Even so, Felicity was not a monster. In Oliver's mind, maybe that could mean he wasn't either.

"Listen, buddy," Tommy's voice jarred Oliver from his thoughts. "John and I talked about it and we both agreed that until this is over, maybe he or Roy should be her bodyguards."

Oliver shook his head clear, all thoughts of darkness and monsters and second chances gone as he stared at his childhood best friend, standing before him, holding more authority than Oliver had ever seen.

"You and John?" Oliver questioned, squinting at the thought of Tommy and Diggle having a secret rendezvous. "I noticed you didn't list yourself as a bodyguard."

Tommy tilted his head and rolled his eyes at Oliver's sarcastic quip. "John talked to Lyla and we have a very limited window before either A.R.G.U.S. finds out the truth or the media finds out the lie, which means that we need to work fast."

"I thought we were." Oliver took another sip of his coffee. "And how does me staying away from Felicity help with the speed of which we figure all this out?"

"You're compromised." Tommy huffed in obvious frustration as he threw up both hands. "Emotionally and, well, physically." Oliver frowned as Tommy gestured to his lap.

"And you think that me staying away from her is going to help with my concentration?" Oliver tried to ignore Tommy's vehement nod as he continued on. "You guys think that me being out on the street, knowing that she is here, where anyone could get to her will help me focus? Knowing that I brought her back from Russia and offered her protection, yet it would be Roy or John, or you, putting your lives on the line if someone were to attack?"

Tommy's nod slowed to a half as his face fell in realization.

"You two think that will help me focus?" Oliver crossed his arms while leaning back in his seat, knowing he had backed Tommy into a corner. "And since when do you and Diggle have coffee dates where you obtain such valuable insight?"

Tommy huffed once more, frustration written along the planes of his face while he pulled the dish towel from his shoulder to wrap it around his hands.

"Diggle thinks she's good for you." Oliver smiled at his victory while Tommy ceded his loss. "So do I, to an extent."

"But…?" Oliver trailed off.

"This isn't a situation I think either of you are going to walk away from okay." The morose tone accompanying the words just proved how real the situation was. Oliver couldn't deny that what they were facing was serious, but to hear his friend think that also brought a sense of levity to it.

Oliver knew Tommy wasn't exaggerating either. This was a situation they may not walk away from, okay or no. While Oliver couldn't deny his feelings for her, he still wasn't sure if they did have a future.

"I appreciate you looking out for me."

"But you're going to do what you want anyway." Tommy waved his hand at Oliver in dismissal. "I got it. You're a big boy who has survived on tree bark and napalm for five years. You don't need relationship advice from me."

Oliver squinted at the remark. "Is that was you really think I did?"

Tommy shrugged, not fazed by Oliver's confusion. "The fact that you don't think you went to some secret spy training academy is beyond me."

"Yeah but-"

"Hey guys," Felicity voiced from the doorway to the guest room. "Is it all clear for me to enter the room?"

Tommy rolled his eyes before letting out a good natured laugh. "What are you? Twelve? This isn't Mickey Mouse's clubhouse, girls are allowed in the room when the boys are talking."

Felicity laughed, keeping her eyes trained on anything but Oliver, at Tommy's antics before crossing the room to stand beside her pseudo brother. "Did I smell coffee?"

"Here you are." Tommy smirked as he set a mug full of coffee in her hands. "Wasn't sure how you took it so I just left it as is."

Felicity didn't reply, just gave him a small smile and a nod of thanks before turning on her heel, dutifully ignoring Oliver's gaze. Both men watched as Felicity took her mug of black coffee and slipped out of the room to the balcony.

Oliver kept his eyes on her as she slid the sliding glass doors closed behind her, probably to get a little peace and quiet for herself as well as to allow them more freedom to talk.

Tommy's grin when he finally turned back to face his friend was almost gleeful.

"Yeah, I stand by my original assumption." Tommy laughed with arms cross over his chest. "You two are so screwed."

* * *

"How long do you think you can keep this up?" Lawton goaded from where he sat across the open space of the warehouse.

Chien all but growled at the assassin from her spot at the command table. At least the table she and her employees had been using as a base of operations. The losses they accrued from going up against Ra's al Ghul were still overwhelming. She knew if she could pull off this task, the Triad stood a fighting chance.

"As long as I need." The words felt like battery acid on her tongue as she pushed herself to focus on the assortment of maps containing different visuals of Starling City.

The low wolf-ish whistle of Lawton sounded off directly behind her. His footsteps silent as he made his way towards her. "You know, I'd help if you asked."

Chien rolled her eyes and threw a glance at him over her shoulder, white hair floating effortlessly in the process. "Do you really expect me to believe that all of a sudden you would help me? Without double crossing me?"

Floyd shrugged before leaning against the fold up table for support. "You could try trusting me."

Chien gave an inelegant snort before turning back to the maps in front of her.

"You said this was my fault." Floyd baited. "You said that I was the one to mess up five years ago, and now we're all on the line."

She didn't speak, or even acknowledge she was listening to the assassin, but he knew she was. The line of her shoulders was tense as he pressed forward.

"What makes you think I value my life less enough to risk it for them?" He continued. "Yes, I brought them both into this world, but you know just as well as I do that this life isn't a team sport."

Now Chien turned to him, a cat-like grin spreading across her lips. "You really would go against both girls you trained and took care of? You would be okay watching him do what he wanted to Glasses while he killed the bird?"

Floyd paused, the visual in his mind of Felicity being taken away while Sara was murdered in front of him. Could he do what she was asking? Could he watch them both suffer in that way? He had done some reprehensible things in life, but this one would be the act would be the one that haunted him. He knew that to be true.

"Give me the 'go' and I'll get the girl for him, just like I was supposed to." He told Chien as he leaned forward into her space.

"And the other one? Sara?" Chien asked, her voice low but a smile spreading ever wider.

Floyd glanced to the maps on the table then back up to meet his associate's eyes. "I'll take her out, too."

* * *

**Notes:**

**For anyone, like me, who sometimes skips the notes at the top: "This first section deals with a minor character death. That being said, I am not Jewish. I have tried to research about the faith, heritage, and customs surrounding death but I fear there may be mistakes and I want to apologize in advance. A persons background is a serious matter and I don't take it lightly. If I made any glaring errors please let me know. Just as when I used google translate for the use of Russian earlier on in the story, I know I may not be 100% accurate and I definitely do not mean to offend anyone. "**

**I don't have a timeline but I'm hoping it won't take me months to get the next chapter up.**


	18. Chapter 17

**Well, when I said I hoped it didn't take me months to post again I didn't expect it to actually take just as long to post again. This chapter is a bit shorter, but I felt this was a good place to stop it. I am hard at work on the next chapter so it should hopefully be coming soonish. **

**Thank you to all of you who have stuck with this story. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your continued support and encouragement. Thank you!**

* * *

She couldn't quite find it in herself to care about any of her problems as the cool breeze coming in from the south facing building ruffled through her still damp hair. The sun was out, the sky was a crisp blue, and the chill she expected in the early morning light was a welcome relief. Felicity loved the breeze. Growing up in the desert she didn't get cool weather as much as she would have liked, and Boston was too cold. Starling City seemed to be just right. She almost didn't even notice the chill that was coming over her for being outside with still wet hair.

While Laurel Lance must have stocked Tommy's "bachelor pad" full of everything he would need, sans food, she forgot the most basic of needs, a hair dryer. Which, Felicity figured, probably made sense. Tommy didn't seem like a needs-to-dry-his-hair kind of guy. Although he did seem rather pretty, and that must take some sort of effort.

Did guys need time to primp in the morning? The last time she was around a guy long enough to learn that information was Cooper and he was more into rolling out of bed and starting his day as is. For as much time as she spent with Floyd she didn't learn any information about his grooming habits.

Felicity winced at the thought. There was a lot she didn't know about Floyd.

But she _really_ didn't want to think about that. Thinking about Floyd and what he did in the past made her sick to her stomach. As terrible as it was to think of all the people he killed and the lives he hurt, John's included, she found herself becoming more and more grieved at her own actions.

She let herself become so wrapped up in her grief that she couldn't see the man for who he was. She was the one who consented to falling off the "right" path for her life. She was the one who robbed people because she thought it was the better way to get her own justice. Floyd never made her do anything. She had been in full control, and that scared her. It made her wonder what else she was capable of.

Growing up she had never assumed she would be the type of person who would rob someone of their life savings because they fit a specific net worth. She enjoyed her computer and her internet. She loved seeing what she was capable of as she sped through countless pages of coding. After her father left, her skill behind a monitor was all she had left of him and that brought her a sense of peace. Just flexing her technological muscles made her feel closer to him.

When her mother died she only felt the loss. Nothing she did made her feel closer to her apart from wearing a few brightly colored outfits. Granted she didn't give herself much time to find something as she all but jumped at Floyd's offer not even three hours after her mother was in the ground.

She never gave herself a chance to see what kind of person she would have become. She jumped into a life of crime which did nothing but make her feel further away from her mother. Felicity let the emptiness she felt guide her actions instead of giving herself the chance to grieve and accept all that had happened. She didn't give herself a chance to move on.

Being with the Oliver's team, seeing how this group of men operated every day to protect the city, opened her eyes to what she had been doing. She kept telling herself, and Oliver, that she didn't regret the life she had been living or the way she had made her way through, but the truth was so much different from that.

If Felicity could have gone back in time she would go back to the moment she accepted the job on Wall Street instead of one of the countless other offers. She would have destroyed the virus she created with Cooper so that he wouldn't have been able to use her hard work to get into the NSA, and she would have found a job closer to Vegas so she could have had a chance of being a better daughter.

Felicity glanced down at the mug in her hands, the steam still visible as she cradled it closer to her lips.

The skyline before her was breathtaking and helped to calm her nerves.

She knew it was probably still too cold to be out on the balcony with wet hair, but the spring air and sunshine pouring down on her made her want to stay rooted in her spot. She felt like a different Felicity here. A more righteous one instead of the criminal.

While Oliver had confessed to doing some horrible things in his life, he seemed to have come a far way from it. He was so put together and honorable. His mission to save the city was not that of a man without a conscious, but a kind person who cared about the lives of others. How could a man like that feel anything but contempt for a woman like her?

What happened between them in the guest bedroom was probably a onetime thing. Tommy was probably talking sense into his best friend as she stood there staring off into the horizon dreaming of a better life for herself. There was no way that someone who had come so far to having dedicated himself to saving his city would feel for her what she felt for him.

Felicity glanced back down at the mug in her hands once more before heaving a sigh and turning to go back inside. As her eyes landed on Oliver's back she felt the vicelike grip on her arm. Her borrowed coffee mug dropped to the concrete flooring of the balcony, shattering as it hit the hard surface.

"The heir to the demon has sent for you." A man's muffled voice informed her as he pulled her closer to the edge of the balcony.

Felicity twisted in his arms to get free as the idea of being propelled over a balcony was not high on her to do list for the day. _Seriously, who taught these guys how to hold a grip? _

"She could have just called." Felicity grunted as she twisted again, trying to use any of the moves Sara tried to teach her.

Sara had tried, but Felicity was not a very good student when it came to martial arts or anything physical. Felicity tried, but tended to fall over instead of do what she was supposed to.

The grip on her arm only tightened as Felicity swung an arm around to try to hit the masked League member somewhere that would cause him to loosen his grip. She just needed to get away.

"Get your hands off her!" Oliver's voice impeded on her thoughts as she swung her gaze to see him holding some sort of kitchen knife in his hand, Tommy stood behind Oliver with a knife of his own.

The sight of both men having come to rescue her only temporarily caused her to relax before she felt herself get pulled closer to the railing. Her body kept bumping into her captor no doubt his effort to get her to stop struggling, but she continued to try to throw herself forward. Her mind ignored the sounds around her, the sounds of Oliver and Tommy yelling for the man with the grip of steel to let her go.

Felicity threw a glance over her shoulder and felt her stomach bottom out. She hated heights, she knew she hated heights. Why the hell did she think going out onto a balcony of all places would help her clear her head?

"You're out of your league, boy." The man behind her must have been responding to something Oliver said.

Frankly she didn't care. All she cared about was getting out of his arms and away from the edge. Felicity forced herself to focus on the man behind her, where his arms were, how his feet were placed, and where his weak spots were. Just like Sara taught her. Felicity gave one sharp twist in his arms while throwing her elbow into the man's face.

The hit must have shocked him as much as it did her. His grip around her waist loosened just enough for her to scramble away from him and right into Oliver's arms.

"Felicity!" Oliver breathed out next to her ear as she held onto his shoulders as tight as she could. Realistically she knew she should let him go so he could handle the situation, but she could not break her grip. "You're ok, you're ok, I've got you."

His words in her ear and his arms holding her just as tight as she held him assured her that she was safe. Finally, she was safe.

"Damn it," Tommy cursed behind them.

Both she and Oliver twisted enough to see that the guy had gotten away. Oliver let go of her and moved towards the ledge, Tommy following suite. Felicity stayed back against the glass wall, her hands clenching into tight fists at the knowledge he had gotten away.

She looked down to her right fist as she unclenched it to see a piece of worn paper, just like the "stationary" Nyssa would use to send Sara love notes when they were traipsing all over the globe. The safety she felt only seconds ago, wrapped in Oliver's arms, faded into a pit of lead in her stomach.

There was no safe anymore.

* * *

_Paris almost had its own pulse, which was one of the reasons Sara loved it so much. The energy of the people going about their lives was contagious. The history and architecture added a feeling of calm and serenity to the sheer vibrancy. If home wasn't Starling City for Sara, then Paris would be. Even now, staring out onto the Seine as the sun set in the distance, Sara felt the dual presence of calmness and energy. _

"_You look radiant." Sara blinked away from her view to find Nyssa standing beside her. "I would offer a penny for your thoughts, but I know they are worth so much more." _

_They had only met Nyssa a month earlier, and Felicity had been less than pleased at the idea of repeating the interaction. If Sara remembered correctly, Felicity's words had been "a snowball's chance in hell." Although that was Felicity being Felicity. Sara knew that they wouldn't run in the same circles as Nyssa. No matter how many secret promises she had whispered when they were alone together. _

_Nyssa kept her eyes on the river, the barest hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. _

"_What are you doing here?" Sara leaned back, turning so she could address the woman who had been haunting her dreams for a month. _

_Nyssa mirrored her pose, finally taking her eyes away from the river below. "That is some greeting, Ta-er al-Asfer." _

"_Nyssa," Sara trailed off, afraid of what she could possibly say to the woman before her. _

"_I made you a promise, Sara Lance." _

_Sara straightened her back and began to shake her head. "What are you doing? You can't just say my name like that." _

_Nyssa chuckled, actually chuckled, before bringing her hand up to Sara's cheek. "You are safe with me." _

_Sara couldn't help herself. She knew she should step back. She knew she should go back to the hotel and watch as Felicity plotted the security system for their next job – because Felicity definitely wouldn't let her help with anything tech related, just like Sara wouldn't let Felicity help with anything gun related. _

_She should not let herself melt into the gentle caress of an international assassin, nor should she let herself be bought so easily with fancy words and a sexy accent. Nothing about any of her interactions with Nyssa up until this point read safe. _

_But then again, she had never been good at following those instincts. _

_So, she let herself lean into Nyssa's touch, a smile on her lips. Deep down she knew Nyssa wasn't lying. She knew this was the kind of woman who kept her promises. Nyssa would keep her safe._

* * *

Sara couldn't help but smile as she watched the groups of children chase after each other in the park. She had spent so much time in this park as a child that being back here brought with it so many memories of her own childhood. Visions of chasing Laurel around the fountain with a fake rubber snake while her mother sat on a park bench grading papers swam through her mind.

There was also the memory of her father bringing her here after a particularly bad break up. It was before she ran away and it was probably the last good memory she had of her father. Not because they fought or didn't get along after their afternoon in the park, but because soon after Sara ran away and everything and everyone became the collateral damage in her wake.

To pick this park for this reason was almost insane. It was a risky move where any one member of her family could spot her, not matter what disguise she tried out. Wearing all black with a Starling City Rockets baseball cap and aviator sunglasses on a bright, cloudless day only worked in the movies. Besides, should she stumble past her mother, her sister, or her father she would place money on them picking her out. She may have been gone for a long time, but they were still her family. There's no way they wouldn't know her.

All those times she visited and stayed hidden in the shadows were just that, shadows. This was broad daylight.

The plan was stupid and only worked if Felicity could meet her. It all depended on her friend's ability to get away from the jolly green giant.

Sara exhaled as she glanced at her watch once more. Getting away from Nyssa and the League guards had been easier than she anticipated and had taken less time than she expected. This meant she had extra time to wait for Felicity to get away from her team of escorts, if she _wanted_ to meet Sara that was.

They hadn't left each other on good terms, and Sara was pretty sure that the League of Assassins shooting bullets and arrows at the room Felicity had been standing in was a strict negative in the best friend column - although to be fair, Sara hadn't known that was what would happen as the distraction.

"Your disguise could use a little work." Sara jumped at the sound of Felicity's voice behind her. "Although you did always rock a black leather ensemble."

Sara couldn't hold in the burst of relief that flooded her system as she spun on her heel and launched herself at Felicity.

"Whoa there," Felicity cautioned, but held tight to Sara's frame. "Since when have you been all about the hugs in public? And last I checked you still had a gunshot wound. Are they taking care of you wherever you are? I mean Nyssa's got that whole eastern medicine thing down, right?"

"I'm ok. The wound doesn't even bother me." Sara leaned back to throw a sarcastic grin at the other blonde who was holding back on the apparent urge to mother her. "And I've always been about the hugs, always."

"Ok, sure." Felicity took a step out of Sara's arms and crossed her arms over her chest.

Sara noted Felicity's closed off stance, and the way she seemed to not take her eyes off her surroundings. It was almost as if she was waiting for someone to jump out and grab her.

"How are you? I see you got my letter." Sara asked, hesitant to know the answer.

Conversation had never been a problem for the two of them. From the moment Sara caught Felicity hacking a satellite to stare at her mother's grave the two talked about everything. Well almost everything. Sara couldn't blame Felicity for being withdrawn from her now. She did keep a lot of her life separate from her friend. Mostly Nyssa.

Felicity huffed before walking towards a more secluded area of the park pathway, away from the screaming children, scolding parents, and prying eyes.

"Your League buddy scared the crap out of me this morning," Felicity grumbled, still not unfolding her arms. "It took me about an hour to shake Oliver and company so I could meet you here."

Sara took a seat beside her on the park bench. "Just how did you get away from them?"

Felicity rolled her eyes before doing another once over on the park. "You did teach me some evasive maneuvers once upon a time."

Sara snorted to Felicity's dismay. She remembered those lessons vividly. Somehow, just like their martial arts training sessions, Felicity always ended up on the floor.

"I picked up a thing or two." Felicity raised her voice in affront. "Obviously if I evaded a vigilante, a trained special forces member, a street fighter, and Tommy."

Sara rolled her eyes at the idea of Tommy Merlyn playing with vigilantism. It was almost comical to see where their lives went.

"Especially after I was just attacked by a League of Assassin member." Felicity turned in her seat to face Sara, a bite behind her words.

Sara held back a groan. Of course, Felicity would bring up her method of letter delivery. It had been risky, at best, to go along with Nyssa's plan to bring Felicity to them. Sara should not have agreed to it; she knew as much.

Sara also knew that Oliver Queen would not let someone kidnap her best friend, at least she believe that from the glimpses of heart eyes she saw him direct Felicity's way. Sara knew that getting Felicity would take a fair amount of effort. So, she made a backup plan to Nyssa's plan. She asked the assassin to slip Felicity a note if the grab job didn't go as planned. Of course, he was offended, and of course Sara did not care.

She told both him and Nyssa that the letter was just a way to check on Felicity. To let her know she was ok, from the horse's mouth so to speak. While the guilt of the lie ate away at Sara, the thought of seeing Felicity again eased it somewhat.

She just needed to see her.

"Would it help if I told you that I knew Oliver wasn't going to let you get hurt?"

Felicity scoffed before turning away. "Did it ever occur to you that there may be other people after me now? People who are also making attempts on my life. Like the Triad." Felicity let out in a harsh whisper. "Just because we left Russia and you're all nice and cozy at Casa de Assassin does not mean that the problems we had are gone too."

"So come back with me." Sara threw her arms out in frustration. "You're so worried about the Triad? Well the League can help with that. We can protect you."

She watched as Felicity's mouth dropped in shock before she scoffed, again. "I can't believe… You just said "we". Like it's already a done deal that you're joining them."

"Isn't it?" Sara asked, without needing an answer.

"What about your family?" Felicity asked, hurt playing at the edges of her words.

Sara looked over where another little family was playing in the grass. A mom and a dad, a little boy and a girl. Not quite like her family, but a family nonetheless. A family who had no idea what was out there, or the kind of challenges they may one day face. Her family hadn't known that Sara would one day run away and become a criminal. No one could have predicted it.

"I gave up seeing them a long time ago." Felicity's shoulders slumped at the resignation she was sure she heard. "To them I'm nothing more than a ghost."

Sara couldn't look at Felicity. She couldn't face the disappointment and the hurt she was sure was displayed on her friend's face. While Felicity said family, meaning blood family explicitly, she meant to include herself in the equation. Even with the chasm between them, they were still family. They were the only family Felicity had left.

Sara knew that. She knew that so well, and yet still chose the League of Assassins over her. Sara knew that that meant their friendship was over. She knew that Felicity, who was well on her way to redemption after her team up with the heroes, would never be hers again. The self-proclaimed heroes of Starling City, and the League, would not allow it.

From the day Floyd brought Felicity to her and introduced Felicity as their new partner Sara had known the truth. She knew that Felicity would never feel satisfied with the life they led. She tried to deny it for as long as she could, but the truth was always there. Felicity was with them for her own sense of vengeance. Not for the rush of the con, or the thrill of the escape plan. Sara knew that once she got what she came for, Felicity would want to leave.

She just hadn't expected this would be the catalyst.

A traitorous tear leaked from the corner of Sara's eye, which she furiously rubbed away. With a deep breath, she prepared herself to say good bye. She prepared herself to leave her sister. This was their good bye.

As she turned to face Felicity she was startled by Felicity taking hold of her hand.

"You'll never be a ghost to me, Sara." Sara could hear the tears edging into Felicity's voice. She heard Felicity swallow over the lump in her throat. "You'll always be my family."

Sara turned to face her and saw the tears running down her face, too.

"Let's just sit for a little while longer." Sara told her, putting an arm around Felicity's shaking shoulders. "We have a few more minutes."

She felt Felicity nod against her shoulder and smiled. They still had a few more minutes.


	19. Chapter 18

**AN: Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following this story. I'm not quite as happy with this chapter but I am excited for what is to come. I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

John Diggle was completely blown away. Their little blonde friend, who had expressed limited combat skills, had snuck away from them in broad daylight.

Scratch that. She got away from an enclosed apartment on the seventeenth floor, with one exit. Now Oliver, Diggle, Tommy, and Roy were game planning what to do at Verdant. Felicity running away had surprisingly not crossed any of their minds. They had all been sure she would hang around. At first they suspected she had been taken, but it was too clean. All the previous attempts had been violent, not strategic.

"How did she get past you?" Oliver growled at Roy who hung his head between his knees.

Diggle knew that the kid felt terrible for losing Felicity after only being on watch for ten minutes. He didn't blame him after the three men had worked so hard in the past 48 hours to keep her safe. He also didn't think Roy would have slacked off on purpose, however it was that Felicity got past him was sure to be an interesting story - once they got her back.

"I told you," Roy volleyed back to Oliver, letting his hands fall to his side. "The security system started chirping when we were on the couch. I went to check it and when I came back, she was gone."

Tommy took a step forward, arms crossed. "The security console is by the front door."

"She must have hid somewhere when he turned his back, and then left the apartment when he tried to look for her. Or someone else was involved." Diggle tried to mediate. "Either way, it's not his fault."

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head at the conversation. "What were you doing before the alarm went off? Walk me through everything."

Roy sat back on the barstool, glancing over his shoulder at the few workers who had started their shifts at Verdant. Diggle could see the kid's concern. He let Oliver down in a big way. Once Oliver brought Roy into the fold the kid had been bending over backward to impress Oliver. He looked up to the vigilante, and Diggle knew how this one mistake was affecting him.

"You two had just left," Roy said as he gestured to Oliver and Tommy. "We had been sitting on the couch for about five minutes, maybe more, when the security system went off. I went to check it, punched in the code, and by the time I turned back she wasn't on the couch anymore."

"How long was your back to her?" Oliver shot out.

"Thirty seconds, maybe forty-five," Roy sputtered. "It wasn't long enough for anyone to have gained access or for her to have scaled the building. Those are the only two ways she could have gotten out."

Diggle put a hand on Roy's shoulder as Oliver turned from the group, cupping his neck in what could only be interpreted as frustration.

"It's not your fault, man." John Diggle wasn't about to blame the kid, who they shouldn't have left alone with Felicity in the first place.

The protection detail should have stayed between Oliver and him. They were trained and aware of what these organizations who were hunting Felicity could and would do. Roy was on his way to becoming strong enough and capable enough, but he wasn't even in the same ballpark as the two of them. He was still too new.

If John had to guess, Oliver was thinking the same thing. The only people to blame for Felicity's absence were him and Oliver. They brought her back to the States and they should be the ones protecting her.

"I think we just need to calm down."

Oliver spun around to face John, letting his hands drop to his sides to clench into tight fists. "John, she is our responsibility and now she is just out there by herself."

"She's a big girl, Oliver," John told him. "Yes, we rescued her in Russia, but we haven't turned her over the police. She could have just given us the slip and that's that."

John watched as Tommy and Roy began to shift in their spots.

"I think the bigger question is why you are so concerned about this girl you've only just met." John knew the answer, and he knew that pushing Oliver into it may not be the best move. "But I think we all know you know why you're this attached to her, and it is not because of her ability to wear a red dress."

Oliver slumped into the seat next to Roy. John knew that one of them should have stayed back at the apartment in case Felicity returned, but somehow he had a feeling that she would find them when she was ready.

"I know I'm acting irrationally." Oliver muttered hopelessly as his fingers began to twitch.

John shook his head in mild amusement. "I never said that."

"None of you had to," Oliver paused to glance at Tommy. "Although some of you have."

Tommy turned back to move behind the bar while Roy remained seated next to Oliver, his shoulders still slumped in defeat.

"I don't even get it. I should be handing her over to Captain Lance, not hiding her." Oliver shook his head

John moved to stand in front of him, arms crossed over chest.

"She…She has done some bad things. She's stolen from people, a lot of people. She associates herself with known assassins and I don't know… I just can't get her out of my head."

John nodded his head in understanding. The two of them could understand each other and the demons they each had. It was easier to love people when they knew your darkest parts and loved you regardless while also showing you their own darkness. John and Lyla shared the same similarities. They had both seen and done things in their past that they wished they could take back. Even though it was all done for the greater good, it still helped to have a partner who you could share that with.

Oliver hung his head lower while John placed his hand on Oliver's shoulder. Whether Felicity came back or not, they were at least seeing a new side to Oliver's journey. The side where he had to learn to forgive himself – Felicity or not.

"Thank you, Kyra." Both men lifted their attention as Tommy came sprinting over to them while holding his phone. "Guys she left a clue!" Tommy directed to them as he nodded along with whatever his housekeeper was saying. "Yes, thank you, Kyra. I'd be lost without you…And Miss Lance, yes. I'd be lost without her too."

John chuckled as he listened to Tommy thank his housekeeper once more before getting off the phone.

"Turns out my housekeeper thinks I'm having an affair, in the guest bedroom of all places, which I assume she believes makes me feel extra tawdry."

"Tommy," Oliver groaned.

John rolled his eyes. "Come on, man."

"Apparently, Felicity left a note in the couch cushions, on purpose or not she left something we could trace." Tommy smirked. "Let's go find her and then we can figure out what to do next."

"I'll sit this one out, boss." Roy slid back on his stool, the tension in his shoulders weighing heavily on his posture.

Oliver turned in his seat, clapping a hand on Roy's shoulder. "You did nothing wrong this morning. I promise you that."

Roy shook his head and turned back to the bar. "I'm still going to hang back here, in case she shows up or something."

Oliver nodded, seeming to accept the young man's reasoning, although skeptically. John nodded in Roy's direction, a silent show of support. Roy did nothing wrong, he John had a feeling it would take a while to get himself there. Maybe he was more like Oliver than they gave him credit for.

* * *

Sara had left her thirty minutes ago. Just like that Felicity was on her own again. Well, not just like that. Sara hadn't been excited to leave, which begged the question why was she? Felicity held her tongue, though, and watched Sara walk away, back to Nyssa and the League.

She tried not to think about all the other people in her life who also walked away. All those people who loved her but didn't love her enough to stay. There was always something else that was more important than her – careers, cancer, killing people, falling in love – which she knew she was unfair to blame on people. Some of those reasons were very valid, but they still left her alone, on a park bench.

Sara had been her family, her support, for so long that not having her was unimaginable. They should have had more time.

"You all right, miss?" A gruff voice sounded out behind Felicity, startling her in her seat.

Spinning around to see who the person was behind her, and to assess whether they were friend or foe, Felicity felt her mouth drop. She hadn't realized she had been sitting on the bench for as long as she was, with tears trailing down her face. She probably made quite the scene. A woman sitting by herself, seemingly staring at the kids playing while sobbing on a park bench. Great. All the parents probably thought she was a creeper of some kind.

She should have expected someone to call the cops or call her out. It was any parent's normal response to stranger danger situations.

What she hadn't expected was Sara's father to be the one they called. "I'm Captain Lance, with the SCPD. You doing ok?"

"Uhh, yeah?"

Captain Lance quirked his head to the side as Felicity tried to close her mouth to avoid looking less unstable. Of course she would run into Sara's cop father after having spent the last thirty minutes crying over Sara's decision to join the League of Assassins. Just thirty minutes earlier and who knows what could have happened.

"You sure you're ok?" He asked again, this time walking around the bench to stand in front of her. "You're crying in a park in the middle of the day."

Felicity shook her head, feeling her ponytail swish back and forth with the motion, as she tried to come up with something that could get her out of this.

"Yeah, I'm ok." She told him simply. "Just … saying good bye to a friend."

Going with the barest form of the truth was the easiest way. Sara was always the better con.

The captain shifted back and forth before slipping his hands in his pocket. He seemed uncomfortable which was only slightly less than she felt.

"Ok, well…" His words faded off before he glanced around the park again. "If you uh, if you need someone to listen, I'm told I'm pretty good at it."

Felicity felt herself jolt at Sara's father offering a listening ear. She knew Quentin Lance was a good listener. Sara used to tell her all the time how well he listened and helped her solve her problems. He just couldn't solve the very basic problem of Sara's decision to run away.

"Thank you," Felicity told him with a kind smile and a hint of sadness still in her eyes. All the missed opportunities were continuing to flash through her mind. "I'll be ok, though."

It was probably time to get back to Tommy's or the lair beneath the night club. The guys were most likely well past worried and had probably moved on to furious. She also saw a long lecture in her future and a multitude of apologies as well.

Captain Lance smiled at her before turning to move on, stopping short before turning back to face her.

"You know, you remind me a little of my daughter." Felicity felt her breath catch. "You're probably around the same age, too."

"Oh, I … thank you?" Felicity tried, unsure of how to respond. She hadn't met Laurel so she couldn't be sure which daughter he was referring to. The idea that she reminded him of his other daughter, his Sara, was hitting home in ways he could not know.

Captain Lance gave her a good humored smile and looked to hold back a laugh. "What I mean is, if she was alone somewhere and needed someone to talk to, which you obviously do, I'd hope that someone was there for her."

He paused and glanced around once more.

"There's a little diner just a block over. Best pie in town." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "Why don't we go get some pie and talk some? You'd really be doing me the favor. Some old guy wandering in in the middle of the day. They'd probably feel sorry for me."

She could tell he was humoring her, but she didn't mind. She could use the company.

"Ok," she said with a nod. "Pie sounds good."

The captain smiled at his victory as he stood. Felicity returned his smile, albeit slightly more reserved, as she followed his lead. The walk out of the park and towards the diner was a quiet one. It reminded Felicity of those times when someone asked her to hang out in high school. They only asked to be nice, and once she said yes they regretted it.

Not that she thought Captain Lance regretted asking her to join him for pie, and probably an interrogation as well. He seemed like a real decent guy, and she knew all of what Sara would tell her about her father. He was a good guy, the kind of man you wanted in your corner when the chips were down, or something along those lines.

Still, Felicity wasn't used to people who were not Sara or Floyd asking her to join them without there being a catch. In high school she moved through the classes so effortlessly that she hadn't had much time for people. Sure the older kids would marvel at her as she spent a few months in one of their advanced classes at such a young age.

Those kids only invited her over so they could cheat on their homework.

By the time she was fifteen she was already recruited into MIT and on her way to becoming well known in the field of technology and cyber security. That was the primary reason why she didn't have many friends in college either. They were all too old to hang out with a kid. Or at least their egos were all too frail to hang out with a genius like her.

Sara and Floyd had been the only two people who made her feel like it was ok to be herself. They made her feel as though she was enough, and she was a person worth spending time with.

"You ok there, kid?" Felicity shook her head of the memories, noticing that they had come to a stop in front of the diner. "You seemed lost in space there."

Felicity gave him her best warm smile, and hoped it didn't seem disingenuous. "Nope, I'm ok. Just admiring the …" Felicity trailed off as she noticed the section of the street she was on. In the light of day the glades didn't seem so rough around the edges. "Scenery."

Quentin grunted something she couldn't quite hear before ushering her inside. "Hey Dolores."

Felicity watched as the woman behind the counter gave him a nod and gestured to the open booth along the wall. He must be a regular, she thought to herself as he put one arm out to lead her back to the booth. That meant he could have come here to get pie without anyone thinking he was strange. At least those instincts of hers weren't completely lost.

The menus were covered in thick plastic, with frayed edges. The pictures of food were faded and noticeably older. The sticky feeling of old maple syrup left itself clinging to the plastic with a harsh crack as Felicity flipped through the pages, only half reading what they served. She imagined that being a diner in the Glades of Starling City didn't really lend itself to new menus.

"So," Quentin drew out the word as he took his seat across from her. "You doing ok?"

Felicity quirked her head to the side, letting the menu close on the table. "You do know that is the third time you've asked if I'm ok since you met me?"

Quentin gave her a smirk and folded his hands over themselves on the table. It was the kind of gesture Sara did when she knew something Felicity didn't. Which didn't happen often.

"Technically I haven't met you." He paused, eyeing the young girl in front of him. "You never did tell me your name."

Felicity sat back in the booth, letting her arms drop to her side. "You make it a habit of inviting young women you don't know to diners for pie?"

Quentin laughed at her bristled edges. She knew she sounded like Sara in that moment. Spending five years with someone makes you take on a lot of their personality quirks. That defensive move was a lot of Sara.

"Why don't we start with your name?" He eased back off the table, an easy smile playing on his face.

Felicity shook her head before glancing around the diner. She didn't want to make one up. She thought when Oliver brought her to Starling it meant she wouldn't have make fake names anymore. She let a small part of herself hope that the cons and the fake lives were over.

Then she got caught by A.R.G.U.S. and became Felicity Merlyn. The dream of just being Felicity Smoak was getting further and further away.

She had tried google-ing herself over the years. She in fact made a habit of keeping alerts flagged for both her and Sara's names, as well as a few key aliases. They had both done a good job of making themselves ghosts, well that's what they thought.

Oliver Queen and John Diggle evidently were able to find them – with the help of John's security company and most likely A.R.G.U.S. resources.

Still, saying who she really was had always been a risk. Especially with so many people after her. Putting Sara's father in danger was not a chance she wanted to take.

"Felicity," she told him simply.

Quentin paused as Delores came over with a pot of coffee and filled both cups without having to be asked. The older woman didn't even both to ask for their orders, but just walked away with a knowing look on her face. It was as if this wasn't the first time the Captain brought someone to the diner for a talk.

"Just Felicity?" He asked as he brought the ceramic mug up to his lips.

She nodded in turn. "Just Felicity."

He nodded once as he swallowed the coffee he drank. "You live around here?"

Felicity glanced over her shoulder once more. While the diner was practically empty save them, Delores, and a few random people she still didn't want to give up any information which might lead Quentin directly to her or worse, Sara. Sara was about to completely alter her life. Including her father in that, even unintentionally, was a bad move.

So Felicity answered as honestly, yet as false as she could. "Just passing through."  
Quentin nodded again as he took the time to look her over. It was almost as if he was studying her.

"I get that you're trying to be nice to me." She trailed off as she took her own turn studying Sara's father. "But you don't have to. I'm fine and I have people."

"You have people?" He questioned with a nod as his only response. "I'm not sure what kind of people leave you crying alone in a park. In my world those aren't the greatest people to have."

Felicity bit her lip at his words. If he only knew the truth he might not be saying that. He would probably be angry with her for letting Sara go. That was supposed to be her responsibility. Keep Sara from going and doing things without a plan. Felicity was logistics and Sara was action and that was how they worked. Felicity knew Sara didn't have a plan and she let her go anyway. It was her fault.

Without even realizing it, her eyes began to well up once more. Felicity was supposed to have done better, and now she lost another person she loved. Sara wasn't dead, but she lost the only family she had.

"Hey now," Quentin muttered in a gruff tone as we pulled some of the napkins loose from the dispenser. "Anyone who makes you cry like that isn't worth the energy."

Felicity accepted the napkins gratefully but shook her head all the same.

"It's not her fault, it's mine," Felicity mumbled over the oncoming tears. "I was supposed to keep things like this from happening. I was supposed to keep us together. She's my family, you know? That's what family does."

"Felicity," Quentin put his hand over hers on the table, causing Felicity to pause and look up at the man. "Take it from me, you can fight tooth and nail for your family but sometimes it doesn't work out how you planned."

She saw the way his eyes took on a bloodshot view and his voice became strained with each word. Quentin Lance was a man who knew exactly what Felicity felt. He lost Sara too, once upon a time. If anything he knew best how she was feeling, but she couldn't tell him that.

"So what do you do?" Felicity asked, her voice waterlogged as she patted the tears from her cheeks.

Quentin cleared his throat before sitting back in his seat. His face became more solemn than before and he let his hands fall to his sides in the booth. The resignation clear on every part of him.

"You don't give up," he told her honestly. "When it's family, you never give up." He cleared his throat and sat a little straighter in the booth. "My youngest, my Sara, she uhh…she left us a few years back. She just up and left and we never heard from her again. She could be halfway around the world by now, and we wouldn't know."

Felicity tugged on the hem of her borrowed shirt nervously. If he only knew.

"Yet, even though she hasn't tried to contact us and we don't even have any reason to believe that she is even still alive, we aren't giving up. I keep an eye on every report that comes through my office. My daughter checks in with her lawyer friends once a month. My ex, she does her own searches. We just keep up the hope Sara will come home one day. When she's ready." He paused with a soft smile. "And we'll be here for her when she does. That's what you do for family."

Felicity took him in, Quentin Lance, the father of her best friend and unofficial sister. She knew that Quentin Lance never gave up on his daughter. He never stopped hoping Sara would come home.

So Felicity knew she would take his lead. If he kept hope that Sara would return, then so would Felicity. She would fight for Sara to come home. One way or another, Felicity was not going to give up on her friend.

* * *

Sara paused to lean against the wall of a red brick building on the inside of an alley she ducked into. Her breath was coming in short, deep gulps as is she was drowning and could only get relief for those brief moments when she broke the surface. Those brief, agonizing moments when all she could think about was that she had left Felicity behind. She had promised Felicity years ago that she wouldn't leave her, and she just broke her promise.

She knew she could not deny that she loved Nyssa. Sara belonged with Nyssa. Felicity knew that better than anyone.

Felicity knew what it felt like to search for something that your whole being ached for. The one think you felt incomplete without. For Felicity, it was her sense of justice after her mother died, which a trained mental health professional could argue went back to Felicity's abandonment issues. With Sara, it was the lack of belonging. Being a con-artist was the ultimate out.

Just like Felicity and her journey, Sara kept creating new identities and new lives in hopes of one day belonging somewhere. Yet no one ever knew her, the real Sara Lance. Except for Felicity and now Nyssa, Sara had sabotaged her own attempts at feeling connected to anyone or anything.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." Sara propelled herself off the wall, throwing her arms up in a fighting stance, as a voice she was all too familiar with startled her out of her thoughts. "It's a little lost bird."

Floyd stood off to the side, leaning casually against a dumpster, eye firmly rooted on an object in his hands she couldn't quite make out. Something about the tone of Floyd's voice and the way he kept his head down, not daring to look her way made her keep herself on alert. She reminded herself that this wasn't the same man she knew.

"Floyd." Sara heard her own voice shake as she began to speak. "We've been worried."

He nodded but still didn't look her way.

"Felicity and I went to Russia to find you. The Triad tricked us and nearly had the Russian Bratva assassinate us." Still nothing. "But you knew all this. You knew because you helped them. Didn't you, Deadshot?"

Sara spat the name out as though it left a sour taste in her month. That got his attention as he finally lifted his head to look her way.

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way." He didn't sound sorry, or at least not completely. "When I found you in New York I went against all my instincts and thought I could train you. I could do one good thing in my life and give you a fighting chance out there."

"You did give me a chance." Sara assured him. "I can get why you lied, sort of. I get why you didn't want us to know the truth."

Floyd shook his head. "Do you? Do you really understand, Sara?"

"Yeah, I do," she told him as she took a step towards him. "You were trying to protect me. And Felicity."

It happened fast. Faster than Sara anticipated Floyd could move. One minute she was finishing her sentence and ready to start another and the next minute she was flat on her back with something inserted into her upper arm, piercing the black leather of her jacket.

"You don't know anything, little bird," he whispered in her ear.


End file.
